


The Contract

by harrypanther



Category: How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2018-12-21 12:10:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 24
Words: 105,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11943909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harrypanther/pseuds/harrypanther
Summary: Modern AU: Night Fury is the hitman who never misses. Special Agent Astrid Hofferson needs the top assassin’s help in dealing with a terrorist who no one can get close to. But when he joins the mission, it’s not for the Archipelago but for revenge…As ever: Disclaimer-I don't own How To train your Dragon. Rights remain with Cressida Cowell and Dreamworks.





	1. At Dragon's Edge

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: No, I haven't gone crazy. Couldn't resist doing a 'hitman' AU-because I can just see our hero as an embittered marksman with a dark past and a burning need for revenge. There will definitely be some romance in here (eventually). I've rated it M because I'm a little cautious about the level of violence that may creep in. Updates are planned to be weekly but we shall see.

 

**One: At Dragon's Edge**

The sign over the dilapidated bar was flickering irregularly and the sickly yellow 'N' was blinking in and out, changing the name of the bar to ' _the Drago's Edge_ '. Special Agent Astrid Hofferson peered up at the garish letters and sighed. Dragon's Edge Bar was in the worst end of the town of Berk, with narrow streets, few lights and absolutely no police patrols. Everyone knew the place was a byword for trouble, the refuge of the worst of the worst, scum who would be kicked out of other troublesome bars for being too bad even for them. No self-respecting law enforcement officer would be seen within four hundred yards of the place and Astrid knew she certainly wasn't welcome here. Except it was the only place their target was known to frequent so it was literally their only chance to find him.

She sighed and stepped towards the peeling door, casting an irritated glance at her two companions, hanging back in the shadowy alley. The stench of rotting trash wafted on the cold breeze as they warily walked forward.

"Any time today, mutton-heads!" she hissed, glaring at them as they sheepishly wandered forward. As mission leader, she had her choice of agents though these were the only two available, meaning it wasn't so much a choice but an exercise in stopping Snotlout imagining she had chosen him for his looks rather than his largely-limited skills. Speaking of which, Snotlout Jorgensen was a stocky young man, with a broad face, blue eyes and black hair, his buff shape swaggering forward. His inflated opinion of himself was an irritation to the serious and accomplished special agent. His companion, Fishlegs Ingerman, was taller and much more husky, though the blonde man with the roundish face and blue-green eyes moved with much less confidence. He was gentle and studious by nature, an analytical and observant man who was better suited to the surveillance suite than the field.

She rolled her eyes at her team and then turned back to the door, walking confidently in, eyes flicking over the inhabitants of the bar. The noise level dropped appreciably as she entered, for a beautiful blonde, blue-eyed woman entering any bar would catch the eye. Astrid ignored the covetous eyes indecently sweeping over her lithe frame and walked confidently in, flicking her blonde braid over her left shoulder. Dressed functionally in jeans, blouse, leather jacket and boots, she walked confidently forward to the bar, her eyes locked on the big bartender, who was wiping a glass casually. She smiled and laid her hands flat on the bar.

"Bourbon, straight up," she said firmly and he nodded, his blue eyes critically appraising her. He was a big man, tending to fat round his middle and was missing a hand, replaced by a very old-fashioned hook. His bald head was covered with a 'Vikings' cap and his long blonde moustache was braided extravagantly, swinging as he moved.

"Here yer are, lass," he said in a broad Scottish brogue. "Yer a little out o' yuir neighbourhood, I'm guessing." She nodded and smiled, sipping the bourbon. It tasted like metal polish but she managed to swallow it with a grimace. "How's the whiskey, lass?"

"It's…good…" she choked, slamming the shot glass on the bar. "Got anything…smoother?" The barman relented and reached under the bar for a twelve year old single malt from the Highlands and poured her a proper measure.

"Yer've got guts, lass," he complimented her. "Are yuir friends here tae make meh bar look untidy or are they here tae drink as well?" She glanced over her shoulder and scowled at them. Reluctantly, they came forward and accepted glasses of the house bourbon. The stocky man managed to swallow it though the husky man coughed and almost choked.

"Are you crying, Snot?" Astrid asked the black-haired man and he shook his head, though he had to pause to wipe the tears from his face.

"Shut up, Astrid. It's…dust," he rasped. "It's good…" The barman poured them both sodas, realising neither were drinkers and rolled his eyes.

"Okay-I can tell yuir none o'ye the sort I usually get in meh bar so spit it out," he sighed. Astrid leaned closer.

"We're looking for Night Fury," she said in a low voice. The barman looked at her for a long moment and then burst out laughing, the sound lost in the sounds of the rock playing on the juke box. He shook his head.

"He'll have spotted yer three the second yer walked through the door," he scoffed. "Yer'll never find him if he doesnae want tae be found." Astrid sighed.

"We have a job for him," she said determinedly. "And we'll pay top dollar." The man scratched his big chin with his hook and looked thoughtful.

"Yer realise he doesnae deal wi' government spooks," he told them bluntly. "It's one o' his rules." Astrid grinned.

"So you do know him!" she said triumphantly. The barman muttered a curse under his breath and shook his head.

"I know of him-because he has been in meh bar and caused all species o' chaos ere," he grumbled. "Look-tek a seat in that corner and I'll get word tae him. If he wants tae come tae talk with yer, he'll come. If he doesnae come within an hour, yer leave." He looked them up and down. "Not that yer not easy on the eye, lass-but yer bad fer business!" Astrid glanced around at the incredibly rough patrons and sighed: there really was no chance she could pick out the man from the potentials in the dark, smoky and loud bar so she nodded.

"Accepted," she said heavily. "Can we have three more of the good stuff?" The man leaned closer and grinned.

"Fer yer, lass-anything," he said and filled the glasses.

Parked safely and discreetly in the furthest corner, Astrid's cool blue eyes swept over the bar. It was a dim space with poorly painted board walls, no windows and the single heavy bar dominating half of the back wall. There were a couple of groups of bikers and thugs, huddled over tables of cards, gaming and cussing at the far side of the room. The juke box against the back wall continued to blare a selection of heavy rock hits and the bar was propped up by men with various scars and tattoos. The floor was made of flagstones, some stained with brownish stains of old blood and in the corner of the bar nearest to Astrid's table, a pool table was being set up by a trio of heavyset biker types who were sneering at another man.

"Okay-fifty!" the leader of the trio growled. His ugly face had a scar down one cheek, bushy brows shadowing mean eyes and a disgusting and straggly beard. His buff leather-clad form was heavily tattooed, bare arms covered with skulls and pagan symbols. His friends-who looked similar-all grunted in agreement. The man facing him was almost his opposite-a tall, lean youngish man with casually messy dark auburn/brown hair and a pale, sharp-jawed face. There was an exasperated look on his face as he nodded, toying with the cue. Unlike his opponent, he wouldn't have looked out of place in an artisan cafe, dressed in black jeans, deep red shirt and brown tweed waistcoat.

"Are you sure you want do this?" he asked impatiently, his light, slightly nasal voice just audible in the ruckus of the bar. The biker nodded and the young man leaned forward, his right hand flat on the baize and cueing off left handed. "Red," he said as the tip slammed into the first ball and three red balls vanished. Emerald eyes focussed like a laser, he straightened up, walking round the table and picking off ball after ball until he gave a smile. He leaned forward and pulled his cue back. "Eight ball in top left pocket," he said, not even looking as he made the shot. The ball vanished and he straightened up. "I win!"

"You cheated!" the man roared and lunged for him. He back-pedalled, just missing the punch aimed at his head.

"Fair and square," he protested calmly. "You owe me fifty."

"Over your dead body!" the man growled, nodding to his friends. All of them grabbed their beers and smashed the bottles on the edge of the pool table, coming at the hustler. He rolled his eyes.

"Oh, Gobber is going to be furious at the mess. Are you sure you want to do this?" he sighed, grabbing the pool cue.

"Oh yeah-you won't like your pretty face all cut up for messing with the Sons of Odin…" the leader of the trio sneered and the young man gave an incredulous laugh.

"What? You're the Sons of Odin? You're supposed to be the toughest in the Archipelago…not a bunch of drunken, squint-eyed losers!" he scorned. Astrid's eyes widened at the insult, calculated to make them angrier-and less in control. And he was rewarded as the first one lunged at him, the broken bottle missing his arm by an inch-but the cue swirled round and whacked the man across the face and then spun round to slam across the back of the man's head as the flew past, landing stunned on the floor. The next one was already moving as the young man grabbed his tee-shirt and slammed his head onto the pool table, seeing him bounce back and collapse in a heap on the floor.

But the third man was already moving, lunging at the hustler with a knife in one hand and the broken bottle in the other. Backing up, the hustler saw three more men join his attacker and realised his opponents had more friends than he had calculated. He gritted his teeth and snapped the cue across his thigh, ending with a half-length in each hand.

"Bastards. That was my favourite cue," he muttered as he blocked both weapons with deft, accurate strokes, the wood slamming round to impact on the man's already-ugly face. The stunned biker spun round and collapsed across the pool table as two more came at him, one receiving an uppercut from the broken cue while the other piece blocked a heavy knife. The third man wrapped his arms around his lean shape from behind. Without missing a beat, the pool player slammed his head backwards, ignoring the pain in his own head as the man holding him released him and staggered back. His leg slammed back, throwing the man against the wall. As he bounced forward, his arm arched back and a half-cue cracked across his attacker's face, knocking him out.

Even as the man was folding, the pool hustler dropped to a knee, the other half-cue mercilessly cracking into the next man's knee and as he screamed and folded, the other half-cue swinging up to catch a roundhouse on the point of his jaw, sending him flying to land limply across the pool table. The last man stared as the young hustler spun round, both half-cues cracking across the face. He stood for a moment, wavering and then fell backwards like a felled tree. Breathing hard, the young man looked around: only the leader was moving but without hesitation, he grabbed the man's head and cracked it hard on the pool table, knocking him senseless.

"Fifty," the hustler said, breathing hard, his hand slipping in the man's pocket and pulling out some crumpled notes, He frowned and put a ten back in, then grabbed his own wager from the table and turned to the bar keeper. "Sorry, Gobber," he announced, tossing the remains of the cue onto the table as well then walking towards the bar with an apologetic smile. "I tried not to get any blood on the baize."

"Honestly, lad-can ye never play wi'out getting intae any trouble?" the barkeeper scolded him, his blue eyes twinkling. He handed over a glass of the good whiskey which the young man drained in one gulp.

"You know, if they just paid up, it wouldn't turn out like this," the young man grumbled. "And I _always_ ask them if they're sure they want to do this and they always carry on. Can't stand sore losers-or people who don't pay their debts." He slammed his glass on the bar and Gobber, the barkeep refilled it without complaint. Then he waved to a couple of large men-one wearing a bucket on his head and the other half as tall but just as wide and incredibly hairy-and they cheerfully clambered up from their corner table to begin to drag the beaten-up bikers out into the alley at the back.

"I'm charging yer fer the cue," Gobber warned the young man and he gave a sheepish smile.

"Yeah-well, I wasn't too happy in having to break my favourite cue-but better it than me," he admitted with a lopsided smile. "In the end, they're only things. They can be replaced: people can't." Gobber nodded, saying nothing because there was nothing to be said. They both knew the story too well.

"In the corner, there're three people looking fer Night Fury," he revealed as the young man leaned forward, his emerald eyes focussing on the reflections in the mirrors behind the bar and picking out the shapes.

"Spooks," he sighed. "Did they say who they were?"

"Nah-but yer can spot them a mile off," Gobber confirmed. "Yer can always leave 'em. I gave them the usual deal: one hour and then they go." But the emerald gaze trailed over the image of the blonde who was staring at him, her piercing azure eyes echoing that so-familiar gaze. He straightened up.

"I'll have a word," he sighed and forced the amiable smile onto his face. Gobber automatically refilled his glass.

"Call if yer need help, lad," he said in a low voice.

"What's the worse that can happen?" the hustler asked dryly and walked easily over to the three agents. He looked down at the determined-looking blonde who had been watching him and her companions-a stocky black-haired young man and a large husky round-faced blond man. "Is this seat taken?' he asked in a friendly voice, indicating to the fourth seat at their table.

"Yeah!" the black-haired man snapped, scowling.

"Shut up, Snot!" the blonde girl growled then looked up into his face. She gestured to the vacant seat. "Please," she invited him, her voice brisk. He slid in and sipped his whiskey as he inspected the three agents carefully.

"Did your tourist bus get lost?" he asked them directly, his emerald gaze calculating. "This isn't on the beaten track and you certainly aren't the usual kind of scum that frequents here." Astrid's eyes widened as the man condemned himself by his words.

"Actually, we heard this was the place to visit," she tried, mesmerised by his piercing gaze.

"You know you have 'spook' written all over you," he told them, sipping his drink.

"I-er-not sure what you mean…" the husky guy said, his voice a little timid and lacking confidence.

"We were looking for Night Fury," the woman said, offering her hand while gesturing to the others. "My companions are Snotlout Jorgensen and Fishlegs Ingerman. I am Astrid Hofferson." The man sat back in his chair.

"He doesn't deal with spooks or military," he said coolly, his expression flat. "Been betrayed one time too many. Door's that way." She leaned forward.

"Does he live in the Archipelago?" she asked directly, her eyes blazing. "We need his help because there is a threat to the safety of everyone here and without his help, there is a real risk we will lose our freedom." The man arched an eyebrow.

"So despite the thousands in the army, the resources of the intelligence division, the secret service not to mention the conventional police, the safety of the entire Archipelago rests on the skills of one assassin? Boy, we're all in trouble now!" he commented sarcastically. As he expected, Astrid leaned forward, her face twisted in anger.

"Thousands of men and women risk their lives to protect you and him," she hissed. "But sometimes, we need access highly specialised skills that others possess! And we need to deal with a man who is threatening the stability of our society, a terrorist who has no conscience, no hesitation to kill men, women, children, the old, the young, service personnel or civilians! But Night Fury is the best and we need the best. He's better than we are in dealing with such…problems."

The man sat back and toyed with his glass, apparently staring at the amber liquid sloshing in the smeared glass.

"You need to get better people," he commented and was rewarded by the flash of anger in her face.

"We've tried," she hissed. "Agents have died. _Friends_ …have died! But the man is almost impossible to get close to. And there is no real prospect of getting him to a point where we can extract him and lock him up. Our only hope is to eliminate him-and we need someone with the skills to exterminate him."

"And how is that supposed to work?" he asked dryly. "If you can't get close to him, how is Night Fury supposed to?"

"Hey-why are we talking to you anyway?" the black-haired man, sneered. The hustler gave a calculating look.

"Snot, was it?" he asked pointedly. "Because I know Night Fury and I know he won't talk to anyone without more information."

"Why?" the husky guy asked. Cool emerald eyes swept over him.

"Assassins tend to be unpopular with the authorities," the hustler pointed out. "Been a few cops and secret service agents here looking for him. Helheim, there were even a few Interpol agents thinking they could catch the famous Night Fury here!"

"I don't know why," Astrid commented, her piercing azure gaze locking with his. "You can certainly take care of yourself. And no one here would make anyone from the law-enforcement services welcome!"

"True," the hustler admitted. "I…"

The door slammed open and four bulky shapes stalked in, wearing the black leather with the white skrill marking of the Berserkers. The hustler immediately tensed, his head snapping round to shoot a warning look at Gobber the barkeep. The big man was already reaching under the bar for his gun when the Berserkers raised their pistols-and in one case, a submachine gun-and covered the bar.

"No one move," the leader growled. He was a man with a mean face, cold dark amber eyes and a sharp nose. "We want Night Fury!"

"Boy, popular today," the hustler muttered, knocking back the last of his drink and leaning lazily back in his chair.

"This ain't a lost and found," Gobber replied grumpily. "This is a bar. Are yer ordering?"

A hail of bullets surrounded his motionless shape, smashing the mirror, half the glasses and a host of bottles of spirit. Everyone in the bar winced and Gobber scowled in anger.

"Yeah-one Night Fury!" the leader growled. "Hand him over!"

"He doesnae live here!" Gobber growled. "Now git oot o' meh bar!"

The leader lunged forward, pressing the muzzle of his pistol hard under the barkeeper's protruding chin. He grabbed Gobber's stained shirt and hauled him hard against the bar, leering into his face. "Night Fury…now…or you're dead!" he threatened, a wild look in his eye. "Dagur wants him dead and what Dagur wants, Dagur gets…"

The hustler went rigid and the good humour faded from his emerald eyes, leaving them looking like chunks of green ice. He leaned forward in his chair, his left hand closing round the glass. "Stay here and keep your heads down," he said in a low growl, his left arm swinging round and flinging the glass like a missile straight into the back of the head of the man holding Gobber hostage. The man went down like an unstrung puppet, the unfired gun skittering from his limp hand as the hustler moved like lightning, diving forward and grabbing the nearest man, wrestling with him for his gun. A knee slammed up and in the moment, he reversed the gun as the man's comrades were still turning to face him. Three shots rang out and the Berserker jerked, his eyes wide as all three shots went through his heart. The agents looked up in shock as the man ducked, spinning away and dropping to a knee as shots zipped over his head. His left hand swung up and the report of bullets sounded harshly in the bar over the strains of ZZ Top. The two remaining Berserkers jerked back, each shot hitting them right between the eyes.

The bar patrons stared at the kneeling shape, breathing hard, his expression cold and angry, before they turned away. Astrid got the impression this wasn't an infrequent occurrence as Gobber gave a grudging smile.

"Thanks, laddie," he said gruffly. "Thought I was a goner there. Shame about meh best liquor. Some o' those bottles have bin there since I opened this bar!"

"Thor, they should be charged with destruction of our cultural heritage," the man quipped automatically, thumbing the safety on the weapon.

"Who is this guy?" Fishlegs asked Astrid from behind the table where they had hidden, his mind processing the way the man had reacted. She stood up with a smug smile on her face.

"He's Night Fury," she said in satisfaction. The young man stood up, his posture wary.

"Busted," he commented sarcastically.

"Look-do you have a name or…?" Astrid asked.

"Night will do just fine," the man said, his emerald eyes never leaving her face. She took a quick breath.

"I can tell you really don't like Dagur and his Berserkers," she said.

"Understatement," the assassin admitted.

"Aye-she's got yer there," Gobber grinned, fishing out an intact glass and pouring the man another drink. He turned to the bar and grabbed the glass, tossing it down his throat immediately. Astrid counted he had finished three in a very short space of time: it was valuable information. She stared boldly into his emerald eyes.

"Would you be interested to know that the terrorist we're after is Dagur the Deranged?" she asked him and saw him stiffen. His fingers tapped on the edge of the glass.

"'Fraid I don't trust spooks," he said tonelessly. "You people have let me down one time too many…"

"But…"

"Leave!" he growled, nodding to Gobber. But as the one-handed man was bending forward to fish out the bottle, there was a muted shot and Fury flinched, feeling the impact of a stun dart. He reached for his gun but his legs crumpled underneath him as his vision suddenly skewed and blurred. As he slammed to the ground, he saw Snotlout lower his gun before everything went black.


	2. The Contract

**Two. The Contract**

"He doesn't look up to much," a gruff voice commented, inspecting the unconscious shape lying on the steel-framed bed in the base. Spitelout Jorgensen was an older version of his son with a full black beard, his cold blue eyes remote as he turned away from the lanky shape of the prisoner. "I don't see why we shouldn't just toss him into Hopeless Jail and throw away the key."

"Because-with all due respect-we need his assistance," Astrid said irritably, drumming her fingers on the trestle table across the room from the bed. The room was a small concrete box in a sub-level under a popular bakery. The little base was a satellite facility-because this mission was classified and they couldn't exactly walk into the main HQ with the wanted assassin, _Night Fury_ in their custody. "I would have preferred to have negotiated with Night Fury and come to an arrangement. He has issues with trusting members of the secret service-and this certainly isn't calculated to gain his trust."

"No shit," Snotlout grinned, sipping his coffee. "But he was gonna turn you down, babe, so I just did what any agent would have done…"

"And if you'd mistimed it? He never misses, remember?" Astrid shot back. "He executed those Berserkers without missing a beat! We could have lost you and him!" _And only one of them would have been any sort of a loss…_

"Not really hearing much gratitude for rescuing the mission, babe…" Snotlout persisted in a superior voice, his self-absorption total.

"You didn't!" Astrid yelled at him. "You probably ruined it-and don't ever call me 'babe'!"

"But…you know you're just aching for me to…" Snotlout barrelled on, not seeing Astrid draw back her fist to punch him.

"Got it," Fishlegs announced from his computer which was set up at on another trestle table adjacent to the door, remotely hooking into the Service systems. Astrid was immediately on her feet, leaning over his shoulder and peering at the screen, her fists still bunched. The large agent had input facial recognition and fingerprint data and the search was whirring through the systems. "Got him," he announced. He stared at the image of the unconscious hitman's face, recognising the sharp jaw, pale skin with a few faded freckles on his cheeks, sparkling emerald eyes and much shorter dark auburn hair.

"Hiccup H. Haddock," Astrid read aloud. "He's former Archi Military-black ops by the sparsity of this biography. Height six foot one, weight one forty, eyes green, hair red-brown. Age twenty-three. _Twenty three?_ Thor…" Fishlegs continued to scan down the page as she stared in shock.

"Family-classified. Special skills-classified. Missions-classified. Unit-classified. Honours-classified. Boy-we're _really_ not getting much from this biography…and the encryption is at Presidential level. Odin-what was he involved in?" Astrid leaned closer and her finger stabbed at the screen, making Fishlegs wince at the sharp jab on his sensitive tech.

"Whatever it was, he decided it was too much," she said in a low voice. "He resigned his commission two years ago-a month before Night Fury appeared." She looked up and stared at the unconscious shape lying on the hard bed. "What happened to you, Hiccup Haddock? Why did you decide to go it alone?"

oOo

_The breeze was cold, the snow lying deep on the ground-which was why he had gotten into position in the dead of the night before the latest falls came and buried all traces of his approach. He was in the perfect vista, an uninterrupted view down the slope over the only way out of the man's personal Hunting Lodge. The isolation was a boon for conducting the kind of shady business deals that he specialised in but it meant that there was a lot more geography surrounding the location and far less control of the situation._

_He shifted under his camouflage net, the compacted snow concealing his existence. He was wrapped in a cold weather thermals, his full uniform and desert hat, the brim shading his eyes. He leaned forward very slightly and peered through the sights of his Valkyrie Sniper Rifle. The car had been brought up and the activity indicated that the target was about to move. He knew he should have some qualms, should see the target as a fellow human being, a man like himself with a family and friends…_

_…_ _but Oswald Oswaldson was a man who commanded an immense criminal network of drugs, guns and human trafficking and who had his eyes on higher things. Already, he was liaising with the Hunter grouping, men interested in stripping every asset from the Archipelago lands and impoverishing their subjugated people and indications were that he was plotting with them to remove the legitimate authorities. All of them. There were rumours of people who opposed him vanishing. Whole villages in remote Berserk had been wiped from the map and the occasional crazed refugee screamed of genocide and mass graves-rumours denied by his publicity machine and quashed by his expensive lawyers. But every law enforcement officer sent after him had vanished or suddenly retired to parts of the world with no extradition treaties and unfeasibly large bank balances. So the President and Inner Cabinet had authorised the ultimate sanction-and Lieutenant Hiccup 'Night Fury' Haddock was here to execute the order…literally._

**_"_ ** **_Target is ready to move,"_ ** _he murmured into his wrist com._ **_"Confirm I have blessing."_ **

**_"_ ** **_Go with the Gods,"_ ** _Toothless grinned back over the com, using the code of the day._

_"_ **_Keep the motor running,"_ ** _Hiccup murmured. "_ **_He has his own security and they may be less than happy about their change of employer…"_ **

**_"_ ** **_Understood. We will be waiting."_ **

_Hiccup breathed out slowly, clearing his mind of all diversions. He had always had amazing aim from when he was small-no matter that his overall motor control had been laughable until he hit puberty and his too-small body finally caught up with his innate talents. Brave, determined, ferociously intelligent and inventive, as he shot up rapidly he had achieved his potential and finally excelled, making his father proud of him. And he could have had any career he wanted but tales from his father and godfather of their time serving their country had filled his imagination with the desire for adventure and he had signed on for the army on his eighteenth birthday. There, they had realised what a gem they had got wrapped in his tall skinny package and moulded him into an unstoppable killing machine._

_The door opened and two bodyguards in sharp suits with earpieces in stepped out, futilely scanning the horizon. Nestled up in the hills, carefully buried amid the dead bracken and the snowdrifts, Hiccup slightly nudged the rifle to ensure the cross-hairs were where he wanted them. Another shape emerged-a raven-haired woman._

Daughter: Heather Oswalddottir. Age 24. Qualified lawyer and accountant and adept at burying illegal earnings and money laundering…Glad to see all that college education isn't being wasted…

_Behind her, a buff, broad shape with carrot-red hair was following. He looked incongruous in a dark suit, his green eyes pale and fey and the blue tattoos over his left eye anachronistic. He turned back to talk to an unseen person behind him, his short beard neatly trimmed._

Son: Dagur 'the Deranged' Oswaldson. Age 29. Wanted for about thirty murders though no one has ever survived to testify against him. Psych analysis describes him as a psychopath with profound sadistic tendencies. Lovely. Can see who takes after Daddy…

_His shoulders tensed as the final member of the family finally headed for the limousine. He was almost a carbon copy of Dagur but older, his carrot hair faded to sandy-grey, his face lined and slightly hooked nose and broad face the mirror of his son. Oswald's cold green eyes swept the freezing drive as his silk suit clad shape marched for the car._

Target: Oswald Oswaldson. Age 57. Head of Berserker Enterprises. Wanted for murder, genocide, intimidation, drugs, guns, people trafficking, extortion, money laundering, abuse of power, treason…a real boil on the backside of the Archipelago.

_He breathed out, hugging the stock to his shoulder, his finger caressing the trigger lovingly. Oswald turned to speak to his daughter…and the cross-hairs aligned on his forehead. Hiccup pulled the trigger…_

_…_ _and two hundred and fifty yards away, Heather and Dagur were sprayed with blood and other detritus as the bullet crashed between Oswald's eyes, his corpse slamming wetly backwards against the car. His bodyguards turned and fired blindly up towards the hills, the bullets nowhere near where Hiccup was concealed. He could hear Heather's screams echoing up-it was always the screams he recalled, not so much the kills-and he could see Dagur bending over the corpse of this father, before turning to look up almost directly at where Hiccup was concealed and pointing his finger up the hill. He mimed a shot and mouthed the words 'you're next.'_

_Shrinking down, Hiccup watched the chaos before withdrawing and heading for his extraction point…_

oOo

His eyes snapped open and he tried to sit up-before he realised that his arms were cuffed to a bed frame. He tugged on the cuffs experimentally but they seemed to be reasonably firm. Listening for others, he locked onto the sounds of breathing so he rocked his head and saw the three agents clustered around a computer…until the black-haired male looked up. He muttered a comment and the woman-Astrid-glanced at him, her blue eyes sweeping his supine shape.

"You're awake," she said, walking forward.

"I see nothing gets past you," he replied sarcastically. "How did you tell?" He tugged on the cuffs again and gave her a pleading look. "Little help here?" She sighed.

"I'm sorry," she said as he slumped back onto the thin pillow.

"That's not an apology," he told her directly. "An apology would be me waking up in a five star hotel room with a large fruit basket and a card saying 'I'm really _really REALLY_ sorry.'"

"Why aren't we just locking him up for his crimes?" a new voice said and he craned his neck painfully to see an older man-like an older version of Snotlout-walk up.

"You must have hit me harder than I thought," he commented. "Because now I'm seeing double…"

"This is Director Spitelout Jorgensen, our senior officer," Astrid explained.

"Ah…nepotism," Hiccup commented dryly. "Knew there had to be a reason why that mutton-head was in the service. I thought they had higher standards."

"Hey!"

"Still not hearing the apology," Hiccup reminded her. "I'm serious about the hotel, by the way. Though I needn't be in that five star hotel on my own…" Her cheeks heated and she marched forward, slapping him hard across the face.

"You swine," she growled. "You just expect me to swoon and leap into bed with you?" She folded her arms and glared at her as he began to laugh.

"Wow, blondie-vain or what?" he scoffed. "What made you think I was talking to you? I may be asking Snotman over there!"

"Hey!"

"Only kidding," Hiccup added with a scornful grin. "Not my type."

"Then what is?" Astrid retorted and he jerked his head towards the trestle table.

"Ask Fishface," he suggested. "I guess he's found my records-what low-level grunts like you are allowed to read." They looked at him. "Oh come on," he said in exasperation. "You don't have the patience and Snotlips there doesn't have the brains. It's pretty obvious Fishface isn't a field agent-he's your nerd, isn't he?" The husky agent looked up and nodded.

"Your observational skills are remarkable-as you would expect for the level of detailed preparation required for a black ops assassin." Emerald eyes widened and he tipped the blonde man a nod.

"I know that wasn't in my biography," he commented. "Bravo. At least someone is thinking like a secret agent." Then his eyes hardened. "Though you still score a big fat zip for trying to persuade me to help you." Astrid glared at Snotlout and the self-absorbed young man shrugged.

"It needed to be done," he said lazily. "Come on-we got him!"

"This wasn't an arrest mission: it was to ask him to help us!" Astrid hissed.

"That ship has sailed," Hiccup reminded them sarcastically.

"Snot-uncuff him!" she ordered.

"Are you KIDDING?" Snotlout protested, his eyes wide with incomprehension. "He's is a one man battalion! He beat up six Sons of Odin all at once and then killed four Berserkers! He'll murder us in three seconds flat!" Astrid turned her azure gaze to Hiccup, silently asking the question and he sighed: his arms were starting to go numb.

"Nah-it will take ten seconds at least," he said lightly. "Feeling a bit off my game today…"

"WHAT?" Snotlout spluttered as a treacherous smile curved Astrid's lips. He smiled back.

"Hiccup Haddock-all I want to do is to talk to you," she said evenly. "Will you promise not to kill us, attack us, try to escape or hold us to ransom?"

"How much do you think my promise is worth, Milady?" he taunted her, his lopsided smile mocking.

"According to clients-the ones who survived and paid the money, not the other ones-your word is your bond and when you make a promise, you keep it," Astrid told him.

"I vet my clients," he reminded her.

"Madguts the Mincer? Norbert the Nutjob? One-eyed Sven, the biggest pimp in Visithug? Wow, I'd like to see your vetting criteria!" Snotlout sneered. Hiccup's emerald eyes widened.

"Thor and Odin, the Snotear can actually read!" he complimented him sarcastically.

"It's SNOTLOUT, you murderous skinny little…" the agent yelled and ran at him. Astrid tackled him to the ground.

"Snot-go and get us some fresh water!" she ordered as she wrestled him to his feet and shoved him towards the door. "NOW!" He cast her a baleful glare but complied, the door slamming shut and locks clunking after he left.

"I think I'll stay," Director Spitelout commented, his knuckles cracking. Astrid stared at him.

"Sir-I really think this isn't going to yield any hope of co-operation," she said flatly. "Could you please let me run my operation?" Then she walked over to the assassin and crouched down to look into his face. "I really am sorry. If anything happens to us-say you kill us-Gobber's Bar will be closed and razed to the ground and he will be imprisoned on a variety of probably valid but very difficult to counter charges." Hiccup's eyes narrowed and grew colder.

"You know that's a _very_ low blow," he said.

"I really have no choice," she sighed. "I need your word. Because I like Gobber and I don't want him harmed. The Bar…well, I doubt many people would mourn its passing…"

"I would," Hiccup replied icily. "It's my home." He stared into her eyes and shuddered. "Okay. You have my word as Night Fury that I will hear you out and not kill or attack you…unless in self defence." For a second she wavered and stole a look at Fishlegs.

"Your call-but every indication is that he is considered trustworthy by those he deals with," he commented. "And he did put the excess money back from the wager. That implies some version of honesty." She nodded and then looked back.

"Accepted," she sighed and leaned over him, unfastening the cuffs and skipping back as he sat up, trying to rub the life back into his wrists.

"Okay," he said, his tone all business. "What is your proposition, Special Agent Hofferson?" Her eyes widened. "Yeah, I did recall all your names-I see the good old Berkian naming traditions are still alive and well and messing up kids' lives as they have for countless years…" She pulled out a vacant chair at the trestle and he slowly levered himself to his feet and walked warily over, eyes sweeping the room for any possible advantage or escape. Finally, he sat in the chair and grabbed the pitcher of water, draining most of it in one very long thirsty pull. "So…"

"Two and a half years ago, a Berserker businessman was assassinated," she began. "His name was Oswald Oswaldson. His illegitimate business were approximately ten times more extensive than his legitimate and there was good evidence he was plotting against the President and plans were at an advanced stage. His death stalled the treason but his son, Dagur 'the Deranged' took over after his death, swearing vengeance on those who killed his father. He blamed the government and began a campaign of terror against legitimate targets-police stations, army barracks, recruitment offices, tax offices…and rather more illegitimate ones such as shopping malls and leisure complexes. He is our target."

"Simple. Take out a contract. Get an army hitman to off him." Hiccup tone was icy.

"Three have tried. All were sent back in more than one piece. Dagur has survived and his paranoia has worsened with every attempt. Our only option is you…"

"No, your only option is to dispatch a squadron of Bifrost bombers when you are sure he's home and blast the bastard to atoms," Hiccup told her brutally.

"Too obvious and too much collateral damage," Astrid admitted. "It has been considered-but he has a compound in the centre of Berserk City-so the attack you suggest would kill too many civilians. So we suggested…you."

"Whoo me," Hiccup replied tonelessly. "Are you crazy? A hit like that would require precision, opportunity and impressive intelligence. And no offence, but I can provide precision but the rest…would be your responsibility. And I'm guessing you have nothing."

"He has a sister," Astrid began irritably. "Heather Oswalddottir…"

_Heather Oswalddottir. Age 24…well, 26 now. Qualified lawyer and accountant and adept at burying illegal earnings and money laundering…_

"So is she on your payroll?" he asked directly. She looked up.

"Maybe you want to try some of your famous charm on her?" she snapped. "Or maybe she would eat you for breakfast?"

"Speaking of which, are you providing meals?" he asked her casually. "I mean, the view is…" He paused and eyed her. "Intriguing, the company is somewhat cool but refreshments are pretty scant. Unless you send Snotnose to 'Helga's Donuts' for breakfast. Mine's a caramel-peanut-crunch by the way." Astrid pulled a face. "Ah…fruit lover, eh?" he teased her.

"Do you take anything seriously?" she snapped. Inclining his head, the expression cooled.

"Special Agent Astrid Hofferson, far too much of my life is immensely serious and I am perfectly capable of concentrating on what is important," he told her. "But since I have been tranquillised and abducted and kept shackled to a bed for an unknown period of time, I _am_ concentrating on what is important: food, fluids and comfort facilities. Speaking of which: unless you expect me to piss on the floor, you better let me get to a washroom real soon."

"He's not very cooperative," Spitelout sneered. "I still think the jail in Hopeless is the best bet." Hiccup's head snapped up.

"Restroom and then show me the door," he said sharply. "This is over. I don't trust spooks and you haven't given me any reason to trust you." Astrid stared at the assassin, seeing his blazing emerald eyes and balled fists and her own hands tightened then released.

"All of you-get out!" she ground out through her teeth.

"But…" Spitelout protested.

"Director, if you want to can this mission, be my guest-otherwise, with all due respect-GET OUT!" she repeated. Fishlegs rose silently and left, grabbing the returning Snotlout after resting the bottle of water on the table and ushering him out. Spitelout glared and then turned to the door.

"We'll discuss this later," he menaced and slammed the door behind him. She gestured to the door over to the right.

"Restroom," she said calmly. "Knock yourself out." He rose and stared at her. She was unarmed and they both knew he could probably kill her if he wanted…but she had placed herself his mercy. Admittedly, they were still locked up in a base somewhere in Berk…and he had no desire to go to jail. But he had asked for a reason to trust them. Maybe this was her attempt at providing that. He gave the slightest nod before he turned and walked to the restroom, emptying his bladder then scrubbing his face in cold water. The image looking back at him from the smeared mirror was the same young man he had been two years earlier-though his eyes were more haunted and he definitely looked the worse for wear. He scrubbed again, feeling the scratchy scruff along the line of his jaw and he ran his fingers through his tousled hair. Not that it was ever neat-that ship had sailed-but it was looking particularly wild. Slowly, he straightened up.

_Dagur. It had to be Dagur. The only target that would tempt him to even consider working with these losers…_

Hiccup was fully aware of his past as a black ops sniper, a man who killed the enemies the army told him to. And, Thor help him, he had been very good at his job, forcing himself to see the shape in the cross-hairs not as a fellow human being or a person but as a target, a shot to be completed. A mission to be completed. And he had believed that what he was doing was the right thing because he did have a conscience and had signed up to protect his home and the ones he loved.

It was a shame his masters hadn't been in on that bargain.

But over the last two years, he had realised that disposing of Oswald hadn't made things better. Sure, it had stalled the coup plans he had been close to executing but the deaths, the exploitation and the oppression had worsened under Dagur. The death he had caused had reverberated across thousands of lives…including his own.

He turned on his heel and walked out and back to the table. Astrid was waiting, looking bored but as she glanced up, there was a brief, unguarded look in her azure eyes that sent a chill of recognition through his taut shape. But he smiled lazily and sat back down, pouring them both glasses of water. Unhesitatingly, Astrid took a drink, confirming it wasn't drugged so he took a sip.

"So we discuss," he said to her in a low voice. "I don't trust you. I don't trust any of you spooks. But you have a point about Dagur. A very small point."

"Really? That psychopathic mass murderer and terrorist? What made you change your mind?" she asked sarcastically. He paused and leaned forward.

"You're desperate-and you managed to get that mutton-head and his idiot father to leave," he admitted. "And Dagur and I have history." She opened her mouth. "Not enough to do anything for free-because honestly, how stupid do you think I am? Okay, I may have a stupid _name_ but I wasn't born yesterday and if I don't strike a bargain, I'm really condemned to Hopeless jail for ever."

"So what did you have in mind?" she asked him. "We want Dagur dead."

"What are you prepared to pay?" he asked her pointedly.

"Fifty thousand," she said in a tense voice. He chuckled.

"You're desperate," he diagnosed. "I don't get out of bed for that! One million-and I walk free." She stared.

"No one would ever buy that!" she choked out. "Fifty K and a suspended sentence for unspecified firearms offences."

"Half a million and I walk free," he repeated, observing her. She was clearly torn, between her desperate need to end Dagur and her need to win and not let him dictate terms.

"One hundred K and suspended sentence?" she offered. "And we sanitise your records?"

"I would expect that anyway…" he teased her, smiling the lopsided smile that had her cheeks warming slightly. "Two fifty and I walk free."

"Two hundred K, we sanitise your record and you get a suspended sentence for the unspecified firearms expenses," she offered. "My final offer." He stared at her.

"You leave my friends out of it and 'the Dragon's Edge' is left alone," he added sternly.

"And you guarantee that you kill Dagur and end his reign of terror," she insisted. His emerald eyes widened and he feigned shock.

"Thor, I wasn't aware that I was the entire secret service on my own!" he protested.

"You'll have us!" she retorted.

"Fishface and Snotman? Thor, I should be paid double…" he grumbled and then he stared into her eyes. A definite eyebrow arched over a stunning emerald eye, now lit with a thoughtful light. "Double or quits?" Her brow furrowed in shock.

"Wh-what?" she asked before leaning forward, her eyes flashing with determination. "What the Thor do you mean…" He stared deep into her eyes, ignoring the familiarity that stirred and dropped his voice.

"I get paid four hundred K and a free pardon…and I even get to kiss you, Miss Vain, if I so wish…" he told her unashamedly, baiting her. She slapped him without hesitation and he gave a broad unrepentant grin.

"Not hearing quits," she hissed, fiercely.

"Are you always this competitive?" he asked her teasingly.

"Always," she told him sternly. "I hate losing!" He nodded.

"Then here's the other side of the bargain," he told her. "My past has already been sanitised and almost every reference to me has been expunged from the records. So after the mission is completed, if you can guess my middle name-the 'H'-then my fee is one dollar, and I got to prison for whatever charges you choose to lay against me." His emerald eyes were twinkling with humour.

"And you're confident that there is no way I could find that out?" she challenged him. He sat back and chuckled at her ferociously competitive face.

"Honestly, my middle name is Horrendous and you'll never guess it," he said cheerfully. She spat on her palm and offered her hand, standing tall and proud.

"I agree to the terms of our contract, Hiccup Haddock…or Night Fury…" she said sternly. He sighed as he rose to his feet, topping her by half a head before he spat on his palm and clasped hands with her.

"We have a contract," he agreed with a grin as the door opened. Fishlegs, Snotlout and Spitelout stared at them. Fishlegs held out a brown paper bag.

"Um…donut?" he offered.


	3. Past and Present

**Three: Past and Present**

"Henrick?"

"No."

"Halvard?"

"No."

"Henry? Harry? Harrison? Harold? Harvey? Honda?"

" _Honda?_ "

"Just thinking outside the box. Haakon?"

"Will you quit it?" Snotlout snapped from the wheel of their SUV as they sped through the streets of Berk. "And what are you doing anyway?" Hiccup inspected the stocky young man and gave a lazy smile.

"Kids game," he explained lazily. "I think of a word and Astrid has to guess it. The only thing she knows is it is a proper name and it starts with an 'H'." There was a snort from Snotlout and he accelerated through a red light, almost flattening a women with a child in a buggy. Astrid yelped and slapped the driver's shoulder.

"What is wrong with you?" she snapped. "We're supposed not to attract attention!"

"Huh-we're only dropping this murderer back at that dive when we should be taking him to Hopeless Jail!" Snotlout grumped.

"Not likely to sort out your problem if I'm incarcerated with the worst of the worst," Hiccup pointed out, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. "It's next right, Snotknee."

"It's SNOTLOUT you skinny smug overconfident murderous little…" Snotlout yelled and earned himself another punch from Astrid.

"He's just baiting you-and you rise to it every time," Astrid hissed. "You're letting him find out your weaknesses!" Snotlout laughed scornfully.

"Don't have any, babe," he sneered. There was a quiet chuckle from the back seat and Astrid flicked up to meet the piercing emerald gaze from the back seat. Hiccup had exactly the same opinion of Snotlout as her from a fraction of the exposure to the stocky agent and Astrid found herself grudgingly respecting the hitman's analytical abilities and ability to assess character. And his dry wit. They turned and began to weave through the narrowing streets until they reached the alleyways behind the Dragon's Edge, pulling up behind the bins.

Hiccup lazily opened the door and slid out, his movements graceful and purposeful, Astrid leaned out of the window.

"Remember-we expect to hear from you by 0900 tomorrow-or this place closes," she warned him and his emerald gaze hardened.

"Don't worry, Miss Vain-I'm not going to ruin your perfect mission record by leaving the country," he told her coldly. "I gave my word and I will not go back on it. I'll be in touch." Then he slammed the door and stalked off down the alley as the car pulled away. Pausing until he heard the sounds of the engine fade completely, he turned to the back of the bar and the solid metal fire door, before flipping up a panel and stabbing in a code then pressing his hand against the palm reader. There was a clunk and he flipped the panel down as the door cracked open and he walked in, locking it tight behind him and clambering fast up the steep stairs three at a time.

He ended up in his small apartment above the bar, glancing around and checking that nothing was disturbed. With his photographic memory and the idiosyncratic arrangement of items, it was very easy to see if anything had been displaced during a search-but his little space remained private. Thinking hard, he unbuttoned his waistcoat and tossed it onto the sagging two-seater brown leather couch and slid his shirt over his head, walking towards the bedroom that was filled with a sagging single bed and a clothes rail. A box served as a drawer. He hung up his shirt and jeans then tossed his socks and boxers into the washing bag before walking to the tiny bathroom, flipping the light on and turning on the shower.

He stood in the warm water, feeling it sluice over his tall shape, caressing aching muscles and more scars than he could count. He ran his fingers through water-darkened hair, massaging the back of his neck which was rock solid with tension. He could have killed them all-and probably should have, though it would have been difficult to get out of the base on his own…but he had stupidly allowed himself to retain a small number of people who he still counted as friends. And friends were a weakness, a soft spot to be exploited…like family. His hands tightened to fists, the knuckles white against the skin and he crushed the memories, suppressing them with a ferocity that would have shaken him before it happened. The ugly scar in his back was a stark reminder of the risks…as were the scars on his heart. He shook his head and began to soap himself down, shaving and drying himself before wandering back into his bedroom wrapped in a towel.

Swiftly, he made a coffee and toast, then dressed casually in faded jeans, pale green tee-shirt, khaki hoodie, brown boots, Berk Vikings baseball cap and brown leather jacket before leaving. He was already thumbing his phone and sending an alert before he walked easily along the alleys and out into the commercial district, heading towards the rundown Visithug Road shops and BERK CELLPHONE DEPOT, a dilapidated store with armoured shutters and unprepossessing signage. Hiccup ducked his head, the hood disguising his telltale auburn hair and emerald eyes shielded by the peak of the cap as he pushed the door open, the bell tinkling in a charmingly old-fashioned way as he entered the bright space and walked directly to the desk.

The man facing him was about his height, toned and fit looking with spiky jet hair, a deep tan and bright green eyes peering through his thick-rimmed glasses.

"Can I help?" he drawled easily and Hiccup nodded, pushing his phone across the counter.

"Can you check this?" he asked. "Had a recent brush with some _undesirables_ and they may well have tagged my phone." The assistant tilted his head, thick brows arching thoughtfully over a small smile.

"No sweat," he murmured. "I'll fit a new ghost chip as well to ensure they can't track you."

"'preciate it," Hiccup mumbled, stuffing his hands in his pockets, apparently peering around the shop as the assistant prised open the phone, expertly sweeping it and removing the tracking device and swapping out the chip. He clipped the device closed and switched it on, checking the systems expertly.

"Anything else I can help you with?" the assistant asked casually, as Hiccup turned back to him.

"Everything you can find on Dagur the Deranged and his sister, Heather Oswalddottir," he added quietly. "I need a window to pay them a visit to ruin their lives. He's gotten them riled up enough to have even the secret services wanting him disposed of. Something has changed. I need to know what they are planning."

"Preferably to end them?" the assistant suggested. "About frickin' time, Fury. Man owes you blood."

"Owes us all," Hiccup murmured, his icy eyes flicking up. "You got my number?"

"I have now," the man grinned. "Be in touch by morning." Hiccup handed over a twenty and then turned back to the door, followed by the assistant, who flipped the sign to CLOSED and carefully lowered the shutter after the customer had departed. Then Taron Drake-formerly a black ops handler, codenamed _Toothless_ -headed for his computers to find out everything there was about the new ruler of Berserker Enterprises.

oOo

Hiccup's next stop was a public shooting range, where he checked in, paid for a lane and chose a pistol. Calmly, he spent half an hour hitting everything he aimed at before checking out and heading back to his apartment, grabbing a warm yak sandwich on the way. The after effects of the drug they had used was still clouding his brain so he returned home, secured his lodging and went to bed, making sure the door was barred and a loaded pistol was nestled under his pillow.

"Okay, Dagur-this time I'm after you," he murmured and dropped asleep.

_The hands round his arms were tight and the blood on his face was sticky and still oozing from the wound. Dagur's men were all around, armed and grinning as they were brought in. They had been badly treated and the blue eyes were shimmering with tears. Then the man himself walked in, his pale green eyes mocking._

_"_ _You know, it took a while to find you…but not as long as you would think," he sneered. "And I really was delighted to find you had people you cared about. It makes this so much more fun!"_

_"_ _Dagur -you leave them alone!" he had grunted, earning himself another blow. "I'm the one you want. Deal with me…"_

_"_ _I intend to," the Berserker sneered. "You killed my father. You attacked my family. It would be rude not to repay the favour."_

_"_ _You bastard!" He barely recognised his own voice, hoarse and filled with hatred._

_"_ _Any last words, murderer?" Dagur taunted him._

_"_ _Let them go! Leave them alone. For the Gods' sake-your problem is with me! Keep this between us… They aren't involved! They're innocent…"_

_"_ _Then after this, no one will ever dare cross me again," Dagur breathed. "How does it feel, knowing you caused this? That all these deaths will be on you?" He nodded. "Do it."_

_"_ _NO!"_

_And then the shots sounded and amid the screams that abruptly cut out, he heard his own voice as the bullet ripped into his back…and it all went dark…_

He awoke with a scream, the gun in his hand, pointed frantically ahead. Breaths lurching through his shivering shape, he stared wildly around, the horrific images still rolling around in his head. Deliberately, he thumbed the safety on then leaned forward. There was a cold sweat on his skin and a burning in his chest, the grief so severe it was a physical pain.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I couldn't stop him. But this time, we finish him for good…"

oOo

 **"** Astrid? Can I talk to you?" The quiet sound of Fishlegs's voice jarred her from the reports on recent Berserker activity and she looked up, trying not to appear impatient. The little office in the base was cramped and the artificial light was hurting her eyes-so she had sent Snotlout out for sandwiches, since his moaning was hurting her ears as well.

"What is it, Fish?" she asked and there was a pause. Then he sat down next to her, the metal chair creaking under his solid weight.

"What do you know about Night Fury?" he asked in a low voice, his blue-green eyes worried. She frowned.

"What's in the official dossier," she revealed. He flipped his laptop open and displayed images.

"His record is remarkable," he said, "but all the indications show that he has exceptional aim, meticulous preparation and total patience. He has taken out people thought impossible…except for Dagur. Our sources indicate that he has been approached before about taking down Dagur…but he has refused because he just can't get close."

"So why did he agree?" Astrid murmured.

"Apart from the fact we kidnapped him?" Fishlegs mused. "Because we may we able to get him in where he has failed before." Astrid sipped her cold coffee and stared at the image on the screen and the list of kills: it was amazingly extensive for a man who had only been in business for two years. But all the names looked familiar… She shook herself.

"And it is personal for him," she murmured. "That much is obvious." She massaged her temples and then looked up. "Fish-search through the records between the date he quit the Archi Forces and maybe six months earlier. I'm looking for non-accidental deaths…any and all. Across here and Berserk. If it was personal, it would be because someone was taken from him. Also cross check with registrars of deaths. If we can find out what he lost, we can find out more about him. I am betting the people who sanitised his records can't erase others…whoever was taken from him." She laid her hands flat on the table. "I don't like mysteries, Fish. How are we doing with Dagur?"

"Holed up in his compound, same as usual," Fish sighed. "No unusual activity. No visitors the last three days. Nothing to alert anyone."

"Which means something is about to happen," Astrid said suddenly. "He goes silent and appears completely blameless just before something big goes down." She rose. "Alert security and raise the threat level around government buildings and major public areas. Any events going on?" The staccato sound of keys was very loud in the room.

"Several," the husky man said, his voice worried. "There's the 'Asgard' Festival starting tomorrow-about twenty five thousand party goers will be in Hamish's Park. The Valkyrie Women's Alliance will be holding a march through the city centre tomorrow protesting about inequalities in educational provision for women and of course, there will be the annual re-opening of government after the summer recess…"

"Get me Director Spitelout," she said. "Warn him that there is a high probability of an event!"

"I suspect he already knows," Fishlegs mumbled, "but I'll point out the pattern. Though security will be stretched paper-thin anyway tomorrow. Perfect for Dagur...not that we can predict where he will strike." Astrid's eyes hardened.

"Wherever he strikes, innocents will get hurt," she said. "Make the calls."

oOo

The building was quietly anonymous, a white-painted two-storey facility sited in landscaped grounds that some of the more mobile residents enjoyed escorted by staff. A Virginia creeper was blushing over the western wall and the wide atrium doors were open to the warmish late afternoon breeze as the tall shape walked in. Hiccup shoved his hoodie back and signed himself in before being escorted to a private room at the far end of the eastern wing.

The nurse looked up as he knocked and walked quietly in, her face expressionless. Hiccup framed a small smile.

"How is he?" he asked but he already knew the answer. The woman sighed, her cool brown eyes sweeping the charts.

"His renal function continues to deteriorate and we suspect he has another infection," she reported. "Are you sure you want to continue maintaining life support? He may require hospitalisation once more."

"You do what it takes," the young man said, hauling up a chair and sitting by the bed, emerald eyes sweeping over the figure lying motionless. The soft hiss of the ventilator, attached to the tracheostomy in his throat, sounded at reassuringly regular intervals. The equally soft beep of his heart was documented on the monitor and competed with the hiss and hum of the most expensive and advanced anti-pressure mattress to prevent potentially lethal bedsores. "I'll sign whatever is needed to continue life-sustaining treatment. I'm paying his bills. We give up when he stops fighting-and not before."

The nurse nodded, jotted on the chart and discreetly slipped out, leaving Hiccup to finally pull off his baseball cap and unconsciously ruffle his tousled auburn hair off his face. His hand stretched out and took the huge paw in his hand, his long fingers gently sliding over the warm skin. The familiar features were sagging in repose, the big nose as he recalled but skin a little greyer and cheeks a little hollower. The man's grey-streaked huge red beard was still carefully tended and Hiccup smiled as he recalled how proud he had been of it.

"It's me, Dad," he said in a weary voice. "It's almost your birthday and I've visited Mom today as well. I think I'm getting closer. An…opportunity has opened up that may mean I can finally get him. At least then you can rest in peace." He sat back in the chair, though he didn't relinquish hold on his father's limp hand. The comatose man continued breathing as the ventilator tirelessly pumped air in and out of his lungs but there was no other sign of life. The patient was a huge man-close to seven feet tall and formerly huge, though his shape was somewhat shrunken from years in a coma, fat and muscles gradually melting away as the days clicked by.

"I know you wouldn't be proud of me-and I'm no longer the son-the soldier-you were so proud of," he said in a low voice. "But at least this is something that should make life better. No one should have to suffer what you have…because of Dagur and his twisted vision of the Archipelago."

_…_ _beep…beep…beep…beep…beep…_

"I'll be back when I've completed the mission," he promised and stood, leaning forward to press a kiss to his father's forehead, brushing the grizzled flaming hair off his face. "Hang in there, Dad. Love you." But he sat back down and took his hand again. "But I'll just wait a while with you here, if you don't mind. I just want to sit here and remember you how you were…before I go and kill the man who did this…"

oOo

The enhanced police presence was everywhere in Berk as Hiccup walked through the main plaza of Berk City, his head down and baseball cap shielding his face. Sunglasses concealed his emerald eyes as he glanced across the wide space. To one side, the magnificent statue of Hamish the First stood on its plinth, dominating the vista while a cream stone fountain was sited in the centre, the shape of a Night Fury dragon sitting in the middle of the fountain. At the far side of the plaza, across a one-way street, the main entrance to Blessed Freya Hospital gleamed in the weak sunlight.

Hiccup sighed, eyes scanning the little cafe that was placed diagonally across from the hospital and seeing three shapes sitting at a small metal table, cups of coffee steaming in front of them. Astrid was in her leather jacket and jeans while Snotlout was in a sleeveless leather jerkin, his short-sleeved tee-shirt displaying his powerful arms. Fishlegs was wrapped warmly in a duffle coat, a computer bag sitting at his side. Without looking them, Hiccup got a coffee from 'Sven's Cafe' and walked easily to the table, sliding into the last seat.

"I thought you weren't coming," Astrid commented as Hiccup sipped his drink. His watch read '09:00' exactly.

"Said I would," he said defensively. "Okay, Miss Vain-what's the plan?" She glanced at his sarcastic tone.

"I thought we engaged you and you did the rest," she pointed out but he shook his head.

"I think you need to think again," he retorted. "I can't get close to the Berserkers without some assistance. Tried-but since Oswald was killed, Dagur has become extremely paranoid. He never gets into his car in the open, the windows in his compound are bulletproof glass and his remote business operations are secret so it's almost impossible to locate them and set up a hit."

"And you expect us to help?" Snotlout sneered. "Not sure that was in the bargain…"

"Nor was having a big-mouthed mutton-head persistently on the team but we all have our little problems, don't we?" the hitman retorted, eyes flashing behind the sunglasses. Astrid frowned.

"So why the 'bad guy about to do something' look?" she demanded and he sat back, taking another sip of his coffee.

"Who says I'm not?" he asked her lazily, seeing her azure eyes narrow.

"Your dossier says you plan meticulously, you assess what jobs you take on and everyone you have killed has a substantial criminal record or is a fugitive from justice. You don't kill innocents." He grimaced and took another sip of his coffee.

"The benefits of being self-employed," he commented, eyes sweeping the Plaza. "I may work for Madguts the Mincer but I get to choose…" His voice trailed away and he tensed, sitting up slowly and resting his cup on the table.

"Yeah…like that excuses anything," Snotlout snapped but Astrid was frowning, seeing Hiccup's face tense. He was focussed on something behind them and her neck craned round to try to see what he had.

"Hiccup?" she murmured. He stiffened-then flung himself to the floor, grabbing Astrid's and Fishleg's arms and hauling them down with him.

"GET DOWN!" he yelled as the staccato report of machine guns filled the Plaza. Snotlout flung himself to the floor, tipping up the table as a crude shield as all four glanced up. There were eight men, all in dark jackets and pants, spraying bullets at random and cutting down passers-by ruthlessly…as they headed inexorably towards the hospital, a building full of people who helped others and hundreds of innocent and acutely vulnerable patients. The cops started running towards the gunmen and two more gunmen emerged from the 'civilians'-mercilessly cutting down the cops without a second's hesitation. Astrid gaped and fumbled for her gun but Hiccup was quicker, pulling an automatic from the back of the waistband of his jeans and gunning down the two closest men down without hesitation.

Astrid stared at him. He had come armed-and he had seen what they should have. _What the police and security forces should have picked out straight away-but didn't_ …and she reminded herself that he had been a soldier, extensively trained in black ops, meaning he would have faced hostile situations more times than she could count. She lined up her Svendson and Larson, seeing the gunmen turn towards them-but she was inhibited by the screaming civilians, still running for their lives even as the terrorists shot them. But Hiccup had no such qualms, firing without hesitation and dropping another two. Eyes widening, she realised that he was only firing head shots with complete success-and then she saw an opening, gunning down another man. Fishlegs was still fumbling for his gun and Snotlout was firing wildly-but with no success.

"I presume you knew about this," Hiccup snapped at her. "Hence the extra cops? But why didn't you realise he always chooses soft targets-Malls, Schools and public events. He hasn't hit the Hospital yet so it was obvious!" _And firmly on his own personal level of heinous._ He snapped off another couple of shots to keep the gunmen away. "These look like Berserkers, Astrid," he added, peering at the attackers.

"Dagur has gone silent," she reported, firing at the remaining four men. Screams sounded and sirens began to wail as the emergency services began to close in. "He usually does this prior to an incident happening…"

"Like now," he growled, lining up and shooting another man. "Cover me." And before she could reply, he dodged out and sprinted forward, his gun held trained on the attackers. They turned on him, the machine guns swinging round to point at the tall, poised shape. but even as they were moving, he took out two more with deadly accuracy. The remaining two men was suddenly surrounded by a hail of gunfire as Astrid began firing in earnest, hitting one of them four times in the chest. Hiccup sprinted after the remaining man, who was making a run for the hospital entrance.

"STOP!" he yelled as the machine gun chattered again and screams sounded. He saw three women fall and the guilt stabbed him so hard it almost took his breath. "Shit!" And he shot the man in the back, reaching him as he fell, the machine gun skittering from his grasp. Furious, he ripped the man's mask off and hauled him to his feet. "WHO TOLD YOU TO DO THIS?" he shouted in the man's face and the man gave a nasty smile and spat in his face.

"Guess," he sneered.

"What is Dagur planning?" Hiccup shouted. "I know he's not doing this at random. There's gotta be an endgame. Tell me or I'll…" The man gave a smug smile.

"I know my rights," he smirked. "I'll be out in…"

Four shots fired and the man's eyes widened and then he slumped, dead. Snotlout lowered his gun.

"Boom! And that's how it's done!" he gloated as Hiccup dropped the dead man in disgust and marched forward, rage boiling in his chest.

"I was talking to him," he hissed. "Or does the fact that you supposedly work in the intelligence service means that you aren't required to have any?" Astrid and Fishlegs were checking the other terrorists-though he knew anyone he shot was dead-but Snotlout was looking smugly at him.

"I just saved your life, murderer," he sneered.

"He was unarmed, _Snotbrain_!" Hiccup snapped at him.

"You just can't accept that…" Snotlout sneered and Hiccup had had enough. As Astrid was opening her mouth to tell Snotlout to shut up, Hiccup punched him. There was a brief silence as Snotlouts' eyes crossed and he collapsed unconscious on the ground, his just-fired gun spilling from his limp hand. Astrid threw her hands out in exasperation.

"Why..?" she demanded, her eyes flashing.

"He shot me in the Dragon's Edge…and he killed an unarmed man I was questioning to see if there was any way I could get into Dagur's organisation!" he snapped. "Is he normally this dumb?" She holstered her gun on her belt.

"Yep," she admitted. "This actually was a good day."

"Thor help me," he groaned as Fishlegs walked up.

"The rest are dead," he reported as the first security forces cars and vans screeched up and armed men poured out. There were injured and dead civilians, dead gunmen and the group all standing armed on the Plaza. The police stared around and then raised their guns, sprinting at them. Astrid stared at them and sighed.

"Uh oh," she mouthed.

"Don't move!" the nearest armed cop shouted above the sharp snap of a dozen firing bolts that sounded as they were surrounded. Hiccup quietly displayed his gun and placed it on the ground then straightened up, his hands held above his head and the agents raised their hands as well. The hitman swept the Plaza with his cynical emerald gaze as the first ambulances pulled up and medical staff poured out of the hospital to assist the injured.

"Just perfect," he commented. "Dagur stages another attack, innocents are killed, all leads are lost and we're the ones getting arrested." He turned his head to glare at Astrid. "Remind me why I ever agreed to work with you amateurs?"

"It may not start with an H," Astrid muttered as the police cuffed them. "But his middle name is definitely Moan."


	4. Part of the Team

**Four: Part of the Team**

"Of all the incompetent, reckless, stupid, irresponsible half-assed moves you could have pulled, this is far and away the WORST!" Director Spitelout Jorgensen yelled so loudly the agents in the next office but one could hear. "You all deserve to be imprisoned until the idiotic flat-footed police services complete their investigations and clear you of any wrongdoing!" Astrid gritted her teeth, Fishlegs blushed and Snotlout looked pleased.

"Nothing to answer," he commented.

"You were firing wildly in a civilian-packed areas!" Spitelout shouted, his face bright red with fury. "You could have killed dozens of citizens…"

"Dad-chill!" Snotlout said with ill-advised confidence. "I'm an excellent shot!" There was a pregnant pause as Astrid turned her head to stare at him in utter shock.

"Are you kidding?" she accused him. "You were more dangerous than the terrorists! The only person you shot had already been disarmed by Hiccup and was being questioned-until you killed our only lead!"

"Astrid-babe-you gotta learn to accept that I was far the most…"

"Ineffective useless pile of…"

"ENOUGH!" the Director bellowed, his eyes bulging with fury. "All of your performances were wholly unacceptable!" Then his furious ice-blue gaze swung to the last member of the party, whose carefully unimpressed face met his glare without changing. "And you-what the Loki were you doing with a weapon in a public place?"

"I have a valid gun license which permits me to carry a gun anywhere," Hiccup pointed out and Spitelout lurched a step closer.

"And you were firing it in a public space!" he sneered as Hiccup's brows dipped.

"My mistake," he retorted sarcastically. "You preferred we should have huddled pathetically behind the metal table in our cafe, watching civilians get mowed down and waiting for your ridiculous police to finally get their asses into gear instead of shooting the terrorists and stopping the carnage?" Spitelout closed to a few inches and glared into the glittering emerald eyes.

"You shouldn't be shooting anyone-you are a damned assassin and should be locked up!" he sneered. Hiccup sighed.

"So you wanted me to watch those men gun down innocent women and children when I could stop them?" he asked. "I just wanted to get this straight. Intelligence Chief prefers dozens more casualties rather than helpful member of the public stopping them being killed?" He shrugged. "Well, I guess if more were killed, you'd get more funds…or isn't that how it works any more?"

"How dare you…?" Spitelout spat in his face. "You killed seven men…"

"In self defence…" Hiccup pointed out. "Thor-there isn't much hope for the Archipelago if you're more worried about your reputation than the safety of the people of Berk!" He shook his head. "Pathetic." His word was scathing. Spitelout shoved him back and gave a nasty smile, his gaze sweeping over the tall shape with his hands still in cuffs. "This mission is a failure. You three will be on desk leave until I decide how to deal with you…"

"Sir! This is madness!" Astrid protested. "There has just been a major Act of Terror and you need every agent you can get to investigate this! Putting us on enforced leave confined to our desks because we happened to be in the wrong place and stopped the attackers killing far more people makes no sense!"

"You are a loose cannon, Special Agent Hofferson!" Spitelout sneered. "I cannot believe a promising young agent would jeopardise her career by engaging this wanted murderer to deal with a suspect! Thor I should be suspending you pending expulsion but your record previously has been exemplary and I knew your father so…" She wanted to say more and stiffened but he stared coldly at her. "Another word and you're suspended." He looked over at Fishlegs and his son. "That applies to both of you," he added and Snotlout folded his arms.

"That's unfair," he grumbled as the Director turned back to the hitman.

"And as your little project is off, this man can be sent direct to Hopeless Jail, where he can remain pending his trial for multiple murders…" Hiccup frowned.

"I think you need to release me now…" he growled. "This was not the deal." Spitelout laughed at him.

"It is now!" he sneered and gestured, inviting two armed agents in. Astrid's eyes widened, seeing them level guns at the hitman's lean shape. As far as she was concerned, Hiccup had done everything she had asked of him-and more, in shooting the terrorists-but they were the ones behaving in an illegal and immoral way. She stared at him-taut with fury, eyes glittering at his betrayal and she could see he was calculating a way out as she realised the answer herself. So she lunged forward, her lips slamming onto his, hands clamping on his cheeks and holding him tight as her tongue swiped his lip. For a second he stiffened and his eyes widened in utter shock-before he relaxed slightly and allowed her to finish. Then she pulled away, a smug smile on her lips.

"Babe! What…?" Snotlout's pathetic whine was worth it all on its own, but as Hiccup managed a lazy smile, she knew he had got the point.

"Wow, blondie-couldn't resist all this bad boy?" he murmured. She leaned forward.

"Rumour says you always keep your word-and so do I," she whispered in his ear. "See you in Berserk." And then she turned away and gave Spitelout a scathing look. "I'm taking the day off, if I can't help investigate the attack. If you want me, I'll be working on my report."

"Me too," Fishlegs said suddenly and followed her as Snotlout stared after them, casting an unfriendly look at the smug Hiccup. He shook his head.

"I don't understand women," he protested and followed Astrid as the Director waved his hand and the hitman was sent away. It was only when the door closed that he moved to the phone and dialled a familiar number.

"He's on his way," he said quickly. "Usual route. He's all yours."

oOo

The prison transport was a pretty standard configuration: metal cell with skylight bulletproof windows, a metal bench bolted to each side of the cramped area. Hiccup sat down tense and riding the jolts of the very uneven ride. The drivers had decided to enjoy throwing him around the space, not securing him and taking corners at speed. They had broken protocol and not put a guard in with him-though that made his job easier-but it also concerned him why they would leave such a wanted and dangerous man to his own devices…unless they were planning something of their own.

Carefully, he checked the little area for surveillance and then quietly spat out the key Astrid had passed him when she had unexpectedly kissed him. He had been stunned and on the brink of lurching back when he left the light cold touch of metal and he had realised in a second what she was trying to do. No one had tried to frisk him-which worried him as well, because he knew the drill. Something felt very…off. But he was practical as well so he swiftly undid his handcuffs and stumbled to the door, trying it and realising it was locked. Not that he expected even Director Spitelout to be that incompetent, but his hackles were up because they were driving very fast…and when he scrambled up to peer through the window, he could tell they were on the north road, heading completely the opposite direction from Hopeless.

The report of a gun and the ricochets off the back door had him instinctively ducking but he tried the door again and was able to wrench it open-to see a tropical blue Porsche 718 Boxster S driving inches from the back of the prison van, the roof down. Astrid lowered her automatic and grabbed the wheel, the wind whipping her braid.

"Get in!" she shouted and gestured to the passenger seat. He stared at her, grinned and jumped forward, landing on the hood and scrambling to vault into the passenger seat by her.

"Really couldn't resist me," he smirked as she changed down, swerved across three lanes of traffic and shot down the ramp to the interchange. She spun round the island four times, laughing at his hand clamped furiously on the top of the windshield before they shot up the opposite side of the freeway and back towards Berk, weaving in and out of the traffic to get far enough away and then she slowed down, the wind ruffling her blonde braid.

"We should be clear-for the moment," she told him as he eyed her appreciatively.

"Thanks-I think," he managed, still tense after her driving. "Why so many times round the island?"

"If they're scanning traffic cameras and don't see us come up immediately, they'll search for us on the minor roads-where there are few cameras," she explained. "So can I ask you-why the cap and glasses? Are you trying to look suspicious?" He gave a small smile: he owed her the answer, because she had just broken him out prison and made herself a fugitive as well.

"Two reasons, both valid," he told her. "One is that I have fairly unusual hair and eyes-which people tend to recall. Cap and glasses do disguise them some-especially a baseball cap which half of Berk wears!" He grinned and she nodded. "The second is practical. The peak of a cap shields my eyes from glare. And the tint in my shades means my pupils dilate, increasing depth perception and improving my accuracy when shooting. Satisfied?" She nodded.

"Wow," she admitted. "I was really hoping you weren't going to say 'because it looks cool' because that would be a real disappointment!" He rested a hand over his heart.

"You wound me, Special Agent Hofferson," he said in a mock-hurt voice. "I try never to disappoint…"

"It's Astrid. And you haven't so far," she admitted, "though I'm afraid we have. I can only apologise for how the Director behaved…" He shrugged.

"Y'know, Astrid, doesn't surprise me at all," he admitted and focussed his very astute emerald gaze on her. "My question is-why are you persisting with me when no one wants to honour the deal?"

"Because no one has managed to get even close to Dagur," she told him tightly as they dinked through the traffic and passed a 'Viking Raider' restaurant. "Since his father was killed, he's been on a personal vendetta to make the authorities pay for his death and expand his own influence. He wants to destroy the legal government and run our country as his personal business. But his way is to kill any rival and spread terror and tyranny so that no one dares stand up to him…and if that is permitted to happen, then there is no hope for any of us." She stole a glance at his thoughtful face. "We can get nothing legal on him…and he just gets closer and closer to destroying our society. And whenever we get a sniff of proof, that person vanishes or any evidence is finagled out of the picture by dark arts from his lawyer sister Heather."

Hiccup frowned.

_Heather Oswalddottir. Age 24…well, 26 now. Qualified lawyer and accountant and adept at burying illegal earnings and money laundering…_

"Sounds a pretty handy sister to have," he commented carefully. "Could do with one myself." Astrid snatched a quick look at him, storing the tidbit for later reference.

"Only child myself," she added as they dodged through the traffic and headed for the exit by downtown Berk. He hummed and nodded but didn't say anything…though he looked thoughtful. Astrid stared ahead and absently ran a red light. "So why head shots? I mean-that's ridiculously Hollywood, isn't it?" He gave a lopsided grin.

"Look-conventional wisdom is that you aim at the largest target, the chest and torso to improve chances of hitting the target," he admitted. "My weapons rating is expert. But there, we were in a low position, crouched below the table, the men were standing firing into the crowd and the civilians were milling around, semi-crouched and obscuring most of the terrorists. Aiming high minimised the chances of hitting bystanders…but increased the chances of success."

"You hit everything you aimed for, didn't you?" she realised and he shrugged.

"I missed high a couple of times…but we needed to stop them." He sighed. "I should vanish…but you are right…Dagur needs stopping…" He gestured. "Turn down here and drop me off. I have a couple of visits to make-and then I'll come round to your apartment. You can take to me Berserk, Astrid. Especially since I'm now a fugitive, thanks to you." She pulled into the side-road and he instantly opened the door and hopped out.

"Apartment 3, Gold Gronckle Building, on the corner of Vinland and Helga," she told him but he smirked.

"I already knew that," he told her smugly and slammed the door. "Thanks for the ride, Astrid. See you later!" And he vanished down a narrow alley. Pausing for only a moment to raise the black convertible roof, she roared away…and after she had gone, Hiccup poked his head round the corner and headed off in the opposite direction, walking up towards Meathead Row, a reasonably good area and THORSTON MUNITIONS. He pulled his collar up and headed in, the buzz of the door sounding as two almost identical lean shapes emerged, their eyes lighting as they recognised him.

"NF! Dude!" the male said, his long blonde dreadlocks swaying as he leaned forward, grinning. His long face was lit by a broad smile and his pale brown eyes twinkled. "How's our favourite hitman?" Hiccup rolled his eyes as the female-almost identical in height, shape and size-swatted the male across the back of the head, her grey-blue eyes expressing her exasperation.

"Excuse my useless brother, H-he doesn't know the meaning of the word 'discretion'," she sighed.

"Ahem. The quality of behaving or speaking in such a way as to avoid causing offence or revealing confidential information!" the male said smugly as his sister dragged on her waist length fat blonde braids in frustration.

"Aargh! Well, he may have swallowed a dictionary but he doesn't know how to do it!" she snapped.

"Easy, Ruff," Hiccup grinned, making an appeasing motion with his hands. "We both know Tuff is a total mutton-head. But I need some serious ordnance-and maybe some back up." The twins folded their arms and shared a look.

"Are we talking dangerous?" Tuffnut Thorston checked. There was a note of hope in his voice.

"Horribly."

"High chance of death and dismemberment?" Ruffut, his twin sister confirmed eagerly. Hiccup made a show of thinking about it-and then nodded.

"We're up against the head of the Berserker Crime Empire!" he revealed and Ruff scowled.

"You know that dude plays for keeps?" she checked and then he stilled. All expression dropped from his face and he took a deep breath.

"Yes," he said tonelessly. "I may be aware of that fact."

"Sorry, dude," Tuff cut in, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "Look-my sister was just anxious…because he's an evil dude. We know what he did to you, H. And we're with you on this one. He owes you." Ruff closed in, her hand finding his other shoulder.

"Yeah-we're here for you," she said more gently and he nodded wordlessly, lost for a moment in his memories and then he looked up.

"Thanks," he said genuinely. "So have you got any goodies for me?" Instantly, they were both bouncing in excitement and heading for the back.

"Svendson and Larson .33 calibre semi-automatic pistol with armour-piercing rounds and 20 shot clip," Ruff offered, placing the weapon on the counter along with a packet of ammunition.

"Valkyrie Sniper rife-this is the Asgard variant with enhanced range and the Svartalfheim sights with X2500 enhancement, night, infrared and low light settings," Tuff added, handing the magnificent rife to him.

"Grimora micro revolver. Three shots palm sized and packs a serious punch!" Ruff piped up, adding another weapon to the pile.

"Screaming Death Submachine gun," Tuff suggested.

"Nadder combat knife?"

"Razorwhip stiletto?"

"Enough!" Hiccup laughed as the twins popped up, both pulling on the same pump-action Rumblehorn shotgun. "Guys-thanks! Look-I may have to hire a truck to bring all these weapons…"

"Or we can bring them for you-as long as you keep in contact," Ruff promised. "We'll load up the camper van and then we can go on a road trip…" Grasping the pistols and the knife, Hiccup winked at her.

"Bring whatever you think we may need to break into the Berserker compound and take on the whole of Dagur's organisation," he said and the twins shared a glance and then placed two identical rocket launchers on the pile.

"ZIPPLEBACKS! We're all over this!" Tuff grinned madly. "Off you go, young Hiccup! We'll be waiting for you in Berserk-provided my sister doesn't slow us down by driving slowly…"

"Aargh! I drive faster than you. You don't even have a license!" Ruff retorted.

"When has that ever stopped me?"

"Good point!"

"And I'm gone…" Hiccup murmured and let himself out as the twins continued to argue over who was the worst driver and how many weapons they could fit into their camper van and still have room for themselves. There was, of course, a very high probability that if they crashed into anything on the way, the casualties would be biblical in number…so it was best to get out of their way and leave sooner rather than later…

After checking for tails, he headed down the hill and back towards Visithug Road. The drizzle was starting and BERK CELLPHONE DEPOT was busy so Hiccup went into the cafe across the road and nursed an espresso until the last customer left when he finally walked quietly in and turned to sign to CLOSED. Toothless glanced up and beckoned him closer.

"I saw something interesting on the news," he commented, clicking a remote and displaying surveillance video of the terrorist attack…and some very good shots of the unmistakeable shape of Hiccup taking out the terrorists with lethal accuracy. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Hiccup groaned. "I suspect someone will recognise classic Black Ops skills, H! Are you insane?"

"Very probably," he replied sarcastically. "I mean, I probably should have watched them shoot a few dozen more civilians…"

"Dagur will be watching out for you," Toothless reminded him bluntly and handed him a phone. "Everything you need is loaded on here. But the man is a psychopath and incredibly dangerous!"

"Hence why you're the only person left on my Snoggletog card list," Hiccup commented. "I'm heading to Berserk with some of the agents of Berk Homeland Security."

"Who you are a fugitive from," Toothless pointed out, his green eyes narrowing.

"Boy, it's a bad day to be me," the hitman snapped. "Almost as bad as the day Dagur decided he wanted to take everything from the man who 'murdered' his father. No matter I was following orders or the assassination was authorised by the President himself…I was the one to blame. But he failed to kill me." His voice hardened. "His mistake was leaving me alive. You never leave an enemy living. And I am not making that mistake. Everything he has is going-no matter what BHS orders. Everyone dies-because they made it personal."

"You want me to come?" Toothless asked him directly, his face angry. "You have to promise me-on your family-that you will do this like a hit. Plan, listen, assess, execute per plan. I don't want you running in guns blazing and killing Dagur as you go down in a blaze of glory. If that's what you're planning, Hiccup, you can go on your own."

"I've got the twins," he replied tightly, his brows furrowed. Toothless stared at him for a long moment-then turned away, walking to the back of the shop and fishing out a tiny earpiece.

"Then you'll need me-because they will _definitely_ get you killed," he said heavily and handed it to the hitman. "You saved my life at least twice, Hiccup. I can't let you die. You're my brother in all but blood…" Hiccup shook his head.

"I hope not," he murmured. "Because everyone who was my family is dead."

oOo

Snotlout and Fishlegs had been waiting at Astrid's neat, clean modern apartment. Everything had clean lines, pale neutral walls and occasional splashes of tropical parrot blue and gold and Hiccup felt acutely out of place in his leather jacket, cap, shades and battered jeans and boots. His gun bag held a selection of his weapons from his tiny home and the rucksack held a change of clothes. Astrid was already arguing with Snotlout, who was still offended that she had kissed Hiccup-and was horrified that she had broken him out of the prison transport. He was all for turning the hitman in to Director Snotlout-until Astrid punched him in the face.

"If I find you've said a word, I'll let him shoot you himself!" she yelled as the dark-haired agent gave a pathetic whine.

"My beautiful face," he protested. "Thor, Astrid-you really need to learn to control your anger! And think things through! If you take that fugitive out of Berk, you make us all fugitives! And…"

"And what are we now?" Fishlegs asked pointedly. The man had been quiet so far, his duffle coat wrapped around his bulky shape. "No one suspends agents for stopping terrorists-except your father. Something smells bad here, Snot. And if you can't see that, maybe we should drop you in the middle of Freezing-To-Death Woods and go and finish the mission without you!"

"And we'll take your car," Astrid added with a smirk. Snotlout scrambled up.

"Not Hookfang!" he whined. "Okay-I'll drive…but you have to sit in the front with me, babe. See how long you can resist my manly awesomeness…" Astrid punched him again.

"Firstly, the answer is until AFTER Ragnarok," she snapped. "And second, I wouldn't trust your driving or you not to ring your Dad unless I am keeping an eye on you!" Oblivious, he winked.

"I knew it," he smirked. "Try not to swoon at my awesome guns…"

"I think I just threw up in my throat," Astrid commented with a grimace. "You know, I have seen decomposed corpses, the remains of the victims of the 'Boiled Egg' serial killer and helped identify the victims in mass graves in outer Berserk and not a flicker. Iron constitution, But Snotlout threatens to kiss his guns and bam-I'm ready to chuck. Bleurgh."

"And it's time to go…before the authorities come to ask us why that prison van had a broken door and no passenger," Hiccup suggested as Snotlout scowled and glared at him.

"If you get my Princess in trouble, I'll see you take the fall before anything happens to her," he threatened as Hiccup looked unimpressed and Astrid kicked the black-haired agent once more.

"I can look after myself," she snapped and Hiccup shrugged.

"Hey-you can look after me if you want," he suggested to Snotlout, who huffed and walked out. "Awkward…" he added dryly and followed.

Interestingly, once they pulled away, Snotlout was driving his huge SUV like an old woman, sticking to five miles an hour under the limit and indicating long before he changed lane or made a manoeuvre. Astrid knew he was trying to not attract attention to himself but he was driving so carefully, she knew anyone would guess he had stolen the car and was trying not to get pulled over. Embarrassed, she slid down in the seat and tried to hide her face as Hiccup pulled his cap down over his face and closed his eyes. At this rate, it would be a long road to Berserk.

oOo

_He awoke in pain, darkness all he could see. There was agony still tearing though his back and weight bearing down on him. And under him lay the cooling flesh of those he loved the most. Head pounding, he managed to lift his head slightly and realised that he was in a grave: they had buried him alive._

_He moved his hand, touching her and feeling cold. There was an unnatural feel to her arm that told him there was no hope and the pain in his heart almost made him close his eyes once more and wait for nature to take him back to her once more. Almost. But there was another emotion that stirred, warring with the despair and devastation: anger._

_His head was spinning and his limbs felt heavy-even when not weighed down by the weight of earth on him. But they had done a pretty poor job, losing interest after they had sadistically torn the little family apart. So he moved his arm, gradually teasing the grains of soil apart and worming his way up until his hand broke the surface. Time meant nothing as he slowly teased the soil away, gradually moving his other arm until he was pushing soil aside. Every motion tore at the wound in his back and even though he knew he was buried, he could feel his breathing grow more painful and harder. If he didn't get help soon, he was going to die anyway. And that was enough to give him a final burst of energy that had him pulling his broken body up, through the hole he had dug out of his own grave._

_As soon as the cold air hit him, the pouring rain began to wash the dirt from his face and he gasped in air, struggling to fill his damaged lungs. His hands scrabbled the mud, dragging his body up-but as soon as he was free, he began to dig, trying to uncover them as well. And as he dug, sobs began to clog his throat._

_"_ _Lord Odin…if you hear this…let me live…grant me enough life to make them pay for taking my family. Please...I swear I will kill him...if you grant me the chance..." he begged as he scooped the muddy earth away, slowly uncovering her staring eyes, the azure blue blank. They would never again twinkle with her love for him or shine as she laughed. Her blonde hair was clotted with mud and half-covered her beautiful face and as he finally stared into her dead eyes, he choked back another sob._

_"_ _I'm sorry, Milady," he whispered. "I failed you…failed you both…" He swallowed, tasting blood. "I promise…I will avenge you. Avenge us all…" And then he stared at his watch, activating the emergency beacon Toothless had given him. Exhausted, blackness swirled around him and he pitched forward over the corpses of his wife and son as the rain poured down through the thick branches of the deep forest, over the unmarked grave…_

He snapped awake, his hand reaching for his gun and breathing hard. Snotlout was humming along to a Disney compilation disc and Astrid was staring out of the window. Ahead, the skyline was jagged with skyscrapers and the the sign by the side of the Freeway proclaimed ' **YOU ARE NOW ENTERING BERSERK'**.

He clicked the safety back on and sat up straighter.

"We're here," he said.


	5. Dagur's City

**Five: Dagur's City**

Berserk was like any other city: wide roads ran in and out through the less picturesque areas of the town; run down industrial areas lay rusting in their skeletal glory; banners advertised anything and everything; the small but busy red light area was well-populated even at this early time of day and the shining glass and steel skyscrapers jutted against the grey sky. The SUV swung through the older central area of town, the impressive late 19th century buildings resplendent in sandstone and marble, neoclassical facades and French style architecture proclaiming Berserk's wealth and influence-opposite walls tagged with a myriad of graffiti, much of it ending in the mark of a dragon crowned by jagged lines. They screeched to a halt by a red light and Snotlout swore at an elderly woman as she walked slowly across a pedestrian crossing, waving a fist and her stick at him as he leaned on the horn.

"Wow, she's really got your number," Astrid commented dryly, seeing him make a vigorous gesture at her. She returned it with even more vigour and visibly slowed down.

"Shut up, Astrid!" he muttered. Hiccup watched the woman hobble onto the sidewalk and scuttle away much quicker than she had crossed the road, his keen emerald gaze sweeping over the shape leaning casually on the corner of the street. He had noted more of them as they swept through the less salubrious neighbourhoods, a man assigned to keep an eye on what was happening in that area and make sure business was not interrupted. All men were buff, very hard looking and wore a jacket marked with the Berserker mark-a dragon surrounded by bolts of lightning. The Skrill was a legendary creature that had no patience and rained bolts of lightning down on its enemies…much as Dagur claimed to do on his enemies.

"We're being watched," he murmured, sinking back so the post by the window shielded most of his face.

"Yup-eyes everywhere," Astrid confirmed. "One of the reasons why he've had such problems getting close to Dagur." He glanced around and sighed: they had little useful intel and no contacts. In fact, he suspected he had a better support network than they did…but he wanted to keep Toothless and the twins secret for the moment. So he scratched the back of his neck thoughtfully and considered for a long moment.

"Okay-we need intel," he decided.

"Who says we haven't been trying to get some?" Astrid asked spikily and he smiled at her irritation.

"Still thinking like a good guy," he told her smugly. "Where is Dagur's hold the strongest? Which neighbourhood?"

"That's easy," Fishlegs piped up. "The _Skrill's Prey_. It's a bar in the Meatpacking District, on the corner of Insane and 22nd. It's rumoured to be the first place Oswald's father, Percival the Petulant, bought to start the family business. Rumoured he ran bootleg liquor, guns and prostitution from there."

"Then we start there," Hiccup decided, seeing Astrid's eyes narrow. "What?"

"When did we agree to help you?" she demanded and he sighed.

"Fine," he said, slapping his hand on the back of Snotlout's seat. "Stop the car. Thanks for breaking me out but I'm going now. You know I plan things and I'm not getting killed running, trying to assassinate Dagur without any intel on where to find him or how to open him up. So I get help or I get gone. Your choice."

There was a frosty silence until Astrid made a growling noise in her throat.

"Head for the Meatpacking District," she snapped.

oOo

 _The Skrill's Prey_ was an ordinary bar with old fashioned fittings, a television showing the recent Berserker Disembowellers Football game and a juke box was playing country music. The place was a little too dark and gloomy and rather smaller than everyone had been expecting. Hiccup-who had pulled an shapeless beanie over his messy hair and donned a pair of thick-rammed glasses-voiced what everyone was thinking.

"Wow. How did they fit all that criminality in this small space? Must have been really crowded!" Snotlout cast him a scornful look but he had already marched up to the bar, ordering a double bourbon, straight up and paying without hesitation. Then he headed to a table in the corner and sipped his drink, apparently settling back without hesitation. The others bought a selection of drinks-though Fishlegs insisted on soda water-and then came to sit by him. They sipped the drinks for a few moments.

"Well?" Snotlout asked shortly and Hiccup sighed, rolling his eyes.

"What have you noticed?" he asked.

"Two men-one by the door, another at that booth…both are watching us because we're strangers and they think we may be moving in on their territory," Astrid said without hesitation.

"While the obvious intruder-that guy by the juke box-is chatting to his dealer on the phone a little too loudly," Hiccup murmured, covering his words by taking another sip. Astrid's eyes widened. "Watch," he instructed her as the two men they had identified-plus another one who emerged from the back-converged on the unfortunate and indiscreet dealer. In seconds, his arms were grasped and a hand slapped over his mouth. There was the _snikt_ of a knife opening and the simultaneous thud and groan of a man being stabbed before the man was hauled out to the alley to be disposed of.

Hiccup took another sip of his bourbon as the others stared in utter shock. A man had just been murdered in cold blood in front of them and all of them felt an overwhelming desire to leap in…but it was already too late and would stop no one. They knew nothing could tie the act of Dagur and would certainly blow their cover.

"I see your problem," he murmured, snapping them back to the present. "Okay-just _how_ badly do you want Dagur out of the way? And how much are you willing to risk?" Astrid looked at him and saw a thoughtful light in his eyes. And she recalled what she had seen in the mirror, just before they had entered Berserk: him dozing, restless…and then awaking with a snap, a word almost on his lips and his hand on his gun. Some horrible nightmare had woken him and she wondered how far Fishlegs had got in his search. If they were trusting Hiccup with their careers and possibly their lives, she needed to know everything about the mysterious hit man.

"We broke you out of a prison van and went on the run with you to Berserk," she suggested. "We hired a hit man because legal means aren't working. I think that's about five laws we've violated already."

"No one asked me if I wanted to become a fugitive," Snotlout grumbled but Fishlegs paused and sighed.

"I think the demonstration we have just witnessed highlights precisely why we have to stop Dagur," he said thoughtfully. "I'm in." Snotlout glared at him.

"Not like you're a proper agent anyway, Fishface," he grumbled. "Okay-but if I get killed, I'm holding you responsible!" Hiccup ghosted a smile.

"And I'll feel duly chastened," he replied dryly. "I may shed tears." Astrid leaned forward.

"Okay-so what is your plan?" she asked.

"Two things," he told them. "First, we need the movements of Heather, his sister, pinned down. And second…" His eyes lingered on Snotlout longer than made the jet-haired special agent feel comfortable. "We need a rival crime boss to come to Berserk."

oOo

Hiccup and Astrid had taken surveillance duties on Heather-because Snotlout was freaking out over the fact that he was going to be set up as a rival to the frankly murderous and utterly amoral Dagur. Fishlegs was netting what information he could from legal and less-legal sources and Hiccup had contacted Toothless to help him-though his friend had predictably been less than impressed.

_"How are you?" Hiccup had asked._

_"I'm holed up in the worst motel in the entire state," Toothless had told him shortly. "Even the cockroaches are checking out in disgust."_

_"How's the WiFi?"_

_"Your concern for my imminent death from food poisoning, fumes and mould is touching," the other man had grumbled. "It's adequate-the only reason why I chose this one over motels which scored even one star."_

_"So…anything useful?" Hiccup had asked. He knew he was pushing his luck but of everyone in his life, only Toothless knew exactly how personal this mission was. The other man had sighed and Hiccup could picture him pinching the bridge of his nose._

_"Nothing has ever linked Heather Oswaldson with the family business," he admitted. "She has maintained a spotless professional persona. Even her dealings with the crime family are fully detailed in her accounts, which are filed a week early every year. Every last cent is accounted for. She offers advice and acts for them on a professional basis only."_

_"And you believe this?" Hiccup asked him dryly._

_"I am certain she knows what business her family are in but there is no evidence that she is intimately involved in any of the more brutal acts of her brother."_

_"Absence of evidence is not evidence of non-involvement," Hiccup had reminded him and there was an exasperated huff._

_"I know-but short of hacking their security system, I can't be sure," Toothless had told him. There was a pause._

_"Do it," Hiccup had said. "I have to know."_

"You with me, Fury?" Astrid asked him, gently touching his shoulder. He flicked and blinked himself back to the present.

"No sweat, Astrid," he told her roughly. "Though she doesn't exactly live the high life, does she? Apartment, work, court, office, court again, home."

"To her three million dollar apartment in the absolute best address in Berserk," Astrid had griped. "While we're here in this rather beat up Chevy with no heating." Hiccup smiled.

"You sound just like Snotlout," he commented.

"Do not!"

"Do too!" he smirked. "Look-no one is paying us any attention-and all we're doing is talking…are you saying this isn't keeping you warm enough?" She glared at him.

"I'd have broken Snotlout's hand for that," she commented and he smiled.

"But that would finish my chances of making the hit," he reminded.

"What, breaking _Snotlout's_ hand?" she teased him and he stared at her-then burst out laughing.

"Maybe not _his_ hand," he admitted with a smile and then nodded. "You think Fish was able to plant the phone tap?" She nodded, recalling her friend's anxiety at entering Heather's firm disguised as a telecommunications technician.

"He may not look like a traditional agent but he really knows his tech," she reminded him and he shrugged.

"I'll take your word for it," he conceded. "Shall we head back for a coffee? There's a cafe that doesn't look too dismal across from the office and we can maybe warm up there?" She smiled.

"I'd like that," she admitted as he started the engine and pulled out, winking at the pair of blonde sightseers across the road from Heather's office. On cue, the twins folded their maps and headed back to their camper van: they knew Hiccup had a plan.

oOo

_"That's the third time this week that someone has interfered with our operations and ruined one of my deals. It's starting to get on my nerves, sis!"_

_"Dagur-I don't need to know any of this. There are legal means for dealing with people encroaching on your business transactions. Do you want me to exercise them?"_

_"And what? Ask the judge to hand an injunction against whoever is messing up my drug deals? Yeah, I can see that going well-as the brainless cops finally steam in at my confession of being a drugs dealer!"_

_"Not all drugs are illegal, mutton-head! You claim they were legitimate pharmaceutical products from Baldr's Drug and Therapeutics that you acquired two years ago."_

_"You think anyone will buy that?"_

_"You can claim commercially sensitive Phase Three Trial drugs and then the court cannot order you to reveal any details about the specifics of the drug in question."_

_"Do it…as soon as I find out who I'm supposed to injunctioning about the interference! And that other matter…?"_

_"Dagur-I'm not interested in what you get up to. I'll see you at the weekend?"_

_"Take care, sis."_

"And…it's working," Hiccup commented, lowering the earphones, "You guys have done well, foiling Dagur's operations. And it sounds like it's starting to get him riled up. Especially when you hit _the Skrill's Prey_ and shot it up."

"That was pretty satisfying," Snotlout admitted, stroking the baby moustache he had been studiously growing for the last week. It still bore a distressing resemblance to an anorexic balding caterpillar but it was the best he could manage-and Hiccup had been forced to admit that the man had stepped up when he had finally ceased bitching about his part in the mission. Fishlegs and Astrid had lent their support in the raids and no one had been any the wiser.

"One of my..contacts…has this for you," Hiccup admitted and handed a flash drive to Fishlegs. The man frowned. "He dabbles as well." _As the finest handler and best friend a man could get._ The special agent loaded up the drive and his eyes widened as the full extent of Dagur's operations was detailed-including ownership of the isolated lodge, the main compound in Berserk City…and a magnificent townhouse in Hysterical.

"This is new," he murmured. "There's a townhouse here…registered to Heather only…but all taxes and bills are paid for by the Berserker Organisation." His fingers danced across the keyboard. "Does your colleague have a point of contact? I would very much like to correspond with him…"

"I'll check," Hiccup murmured, his eyes trailing on the shape emerging from the offices of Oswaldson Law and Accountancy. Heather was beautiful, with her clear pale skin, green eyes and shining jet hair. There was a poise and elegance to her slender shape that would have attracted him had his heart not already been shattered by everything he had endured. "You know she is the gateway in?" Astrid stared at him.

"What?" she demanded as he leaned forward.

"What's in her diary?" he asked and Fishlegs scoured her computer.

"Meetings in the office all day tomorrow-except for lunch with a client who is a business acquaintance of Dagur at 1300," he reported. Abruptly, Hiccup rose.

"I need to see a couple of friends about tomorrow," he murmured. "Can you deliver a warning to Dagur at five to one that his sister is in danger? That the new syndicate are targeting her?"

"What? This wasn't in the plan!" Astrid snapped. "Look, we've been very patient but this is really getting far too far the wrong side of the law if you expect us to blow up…" He cast her an exasperated look.

"You don't need to do anything except make the call,' Hiccup said. "I'll do the rest. But I guarantee you, this should provide the opening we need." The blonde special agent stared at him for a long moment and then nodded, watching him leave. Then she turned to Fishlegs.

"Track him," she snapped. "I need to know what the Helheim he's up to. He's been lying to us through all this-and if we don't know what's going on, how on Midgard can we complete the mission?" Fishlegs looked up and his expression was troubled.

"Or bail out before he gets us all killed."

oOo

"You sure you want to do this, NF?" Tuff asked as the twins sat behind their camper van. They had parked up in an abandoned factory site and were currently sitting on deck chairs around a wood fire, cooking sausages on sticks. The hitman leaned back in his chair and chugged on a beer.

"What you got for me?" he asked, deliberately avoiding the question. There was a pause and Tuff handed him a very small Grimora pistol.

"This answer your question?" he asked shortly. "Look, not that we don't completely love blowing shit up-but this is getting real. You want to risk your life on this?"

"Dagur took away literally everything from me-and then he thought he took my life," Hiccup said grimly. "I was buried in a shallow grave on top of the corpses of my wife and son. And I barely survived-I was at death's door when Toothless found me."

"We helped extract you," Ruff reminded him quietly. "And we saw to the other arrangements." He nodded, wordlessly, his eyes unfocused as he stared into the flames.

"So you know I have to do this," he murmured. "Look, if I die, as long as I take Dagur to Helheim with me, I won't care." Ruff jerked to her feet.

"Don't you think other people might?" she snapped. "You may have lost your family, Hiccup-but you have friends, people who care for you, who have left their homes and businesses to help you in this quest so that you stand a chance of moving on."

He sighed, finishing his beer and tossing the crumpled can into the flames.

"There is no moving on," he said in a dead voice. "Once this is completed, I'm done. There's nothing left."

"Then we might as well pack up now, NF-because we aren't helping you commit suicide," Tuff told him shortly. "We're here to help our buddy avenge his family, not help him get himself stupidly killed. You don't have an exit strategy, then you don't go in at all. Understand?" He managed a mirthless smile.

"Since when did the crazy twins care about consequences of their actions?" he asked rhetorically. They shared a look.

"Since our friend developed a death wish," Ruff told him shortly. He shrugged.

"Crazy world," he commented. "I'm not trying to get killed, Ruff-because that doesn't finish what I've started. I need Dagur dead-because he killed them…and tried to kill me. But I also need to know how he found out who I was in the first place. My identity is secret, my records sanitised so special agents from BHS can't even unlock them. But he found out. How?" Tuff looked concerned.

"Are we in danger as well, Hicc?" he asked and there was a pause. It was a sticky issue.

"I'm off the grid-and, as far as I know, so are the agents with me," he said thoughtfully. "I mean, it's not exactly official departmental policy to execute criminals. I still think the rule of law comes into it somewhere…" Tuff shrugged.

"Probably," he conceded. "A long as blowing stuff up doesn't get outlawed as well." Hiccup shared a glance with the female twin that confirmed that law had been in place for a _long_ time already and then he smiled.

"I was promised marshmallows," he murmured. "And more beer…"

"As long as you can do what you said-and you're not trying to get killed, we'll help," Ruff promised. "But you run into trouble and we will involve your agent friends-whether you want it or not!"

oOo

The next day was fine and bright and the people of Berserk were out and about early. The main Plaza in front of Oswaldson Law and Accountancy was packed and the gleaming building itself was shining in the brilliant light. Clad in silver-tinted glass, the structure was elegant with an overlapping scale design on the steel struts that formed the corners of the building and a line of spines along the line of the roof. The curled etching of a Razorwhip was emblazoned on the glass panels to each side of the entrance, catching the light as the doors revolved.

Heather emerged, a dark grey suit emphasising her slim figure as she strode out on her heels. her raven hair was braided over her left shoulder, her eyes fixed on her car which was parked a few yards down from the entrance in her personal bay. She glanced across the Plaza, seeing a group of Scouts being led on a field trip past the Town Hall and the statue of Percival the Petulant, her grandfather, who had also been a very respected Mayor of Berserk. She smiled and turned back to her car, lifting her keys to unlock the shiny black Mercedes.

She was hit at waist height by a body as the car beeped…

…and exploded. The blast slammed her and the person who had hit her back against the building, his arms cradled around her head, protecting her. Ears ringing, she realised her saviour had thrown her back just enough-though her briefcase was scorched and on fire. The young man was lying across her, blood tricking down his forehead from where he had been struck by flying debris. He was semiconscious and she pushed him off, staring at the burning hulk.

"Are you alright?" She glanced up as two of Dagur's minders surged forward and helped her to her feet, taking station at either side of the woman. She nodded.

"I-I think so," she said shakily, glancing down at the young man who had saved her.

"Dagur wants you gotten to safety," one minder said gruffly. "He just received a credible threat against you…" She snapped round, her green eyes sweeping over the man coldly.

"Yeah-that was useful," she told him coldly. "But maybe earlier would have been more useful?"

"Please, Miss-we need to get you to safety now," he insisted. her eyes slid down to the lean shape, moving blearily as the young man rolled over to stare up at her, emerald eyes unfocussed. His thick eyebrows dipped as he frowned in pain, a hand ghosting to the wound on his forehead, the blood scarlet against his pale skin. His tousled auburn hair framed his faintly freckled face and the sharp jaw and she turned to the minders.

"Bring him!" she ordered them coldly.

"But…"

"He just saved my life," Heather said. "Bring him with me."

"But we have no idea who he is…" the minder protested. Heather glared.

"Do you want my brother to know you disobeyed an order?" she asked him icily. The man wilted under her fierce gaze and hauled Hiccup to his feet, supporting the bleary man.

"What..." he mumbled. Heather rested a hand on his shoulder.

"It's okay," she said gently. "You saved my life. I'm going to make sure you're looked after!" Then she nodded and he was helped into a waiting SUV, while Heather followed a few steps behind. The doors slammed and the vehicle sped away, wheels spinning as it raced past the burning hulk of Heather's car, with Dagur's sister and her saviour in the back.

Astrid lifted her phone and dialled Fishlegs.

"He's in," she said.


	6. Truth and Lies

**Six: Truth and Lies**

Hiccup's eyes flickered and then opened, the bleary emerald depths focussing on the unfamiliar surroundings. He was lying on an improbable four-poster bed in a huge high-ceilinged room with two full-length windows and alabaster detailing on the ceiling. Heavy pieces of dark wood furniture were stationed against the dark red painted walls and a pale cinnamon carpet was placed centrally, covering all but the outside foot of the mahogany floorboards. He blinked again and sat up, head snapping round as he scanned his surroundings. This was either the best hotel in Berserk or he had made it into Dagur's central base of operations.

He smiled as he swung his legs over the side of the bed and then he stared: a man was stationed at the door and he inspected the waking Hiccup with unfriendly eyes. Self-consciously, he levered himself to his feet and swayed, the room tilting. He had obviously hit his head harder than he had realised and his fingers trailed up to the lump hidden under his tussled auburn hair. He winced slightly as he felt the firm swelling and grimaced, closing his eyes and mastering the nausea. Blinking determinedly, he stumbled to the door. Predictably, the guard stepped in his way as Hiccup offered a small smile.

"Um…which way is it to the bathroom?" he asked. The man scowled. "Bath…room?" he tried more deliberately. The man inspected him like a nasty insect, then grabbed his arm and hauled him roughly from the room and along the fine corridor, the wallpaper a pale cream with vivid hand-printed flowers stretching from the deep lapis Persian carpet to the white painted ceiling. Dark wood doors were closed on either side and Hiccup allowed himself to be hauled along. Abruptly, the guard stopped at the furthest door, opened it and shoved the auburn-haired man in, before taking station at the open door.

"Um..a little privacy?" Hiccup asked dryly, eyeing the toilet, the huge old-fashioned sink and the elaborate roll-topped bath with cast iron clawed feet. The man scowled but Hiccup was standing his ground until the man closed the door. Immediately, Hiccup sped to the sink and started the water running, then quartered the room once more, before he made it to the window and opened it, peering out to see a view of the street. His sharp sight found the casual blond shape parked on the street corner in a beanie and mirror shades. He sighed then lifted his watch, making sure the light reflected off the glass and briefly flashed a few letters in Morse before silently closing the door and bouncing down to use the toilet, then washing his hands and splashing water on his face before the guard got bored. He was still drying his face as the man burst in, granting Hiccup barely enough time to pull the flush before being hauled away.

"Wow-if you were that desperate, I could have waited," he suggested, offering his goofy smile. The man growled and muttered under his breath, shoving the lanky auburn-haired man forward. He reached a wide staircase that curved elegantly down to a huge marble-floored hallway, an elaborate and frankly enormous chandelier gleaming overhead. Inclining his head, Hiccup stared up, wide-eyed, at the impressive space and circled round as he hit ground level. "This is impressive," he commented as the man shoved him forward. Dressed in black leather with the Skrill symbol on his back, he was clearly one of Dagur's men and Hiccup played along as he was shoved through a pair of moulded double doors and into a huge Dining Room, an enormous oval mahogany table dominating the Georgian space, plain indigo walls highlighted by white coving and roof and full length windows. At the far end of the table, the poised shape of Heather was seated, a second place setting waiting at her right. The man shoved Hiccup once more and grunted before withdrawing to the door and closing it behind him. Pausing, the young man turned his bright emerald eyes on the raven-haired lawyer.

"Not amazingly chatty," he commented lightly. "Um…why am I here?" She rose gracefully to her feet and gestured to the seat at her side and warily, he advanced, taking the seat and sitting with his hands on his lap, forcing himself to sit back.

"You saved my life," Heather told him calmly. "The blast knocked you out so we brought you here." Hiccup looked up and around and then back at the young woman, who was inspecting him intensely.

"Um…thanks," he commented self-consciously. "And…why? I mean you could have just called an ambulance…"

"You saved my life," Heather repeated. "I am Heather Oswalddottir. I am the sister of Dagur 'the Deranged'." Eyebrows rising, Hiccup nodded.

"Um…heard of him," he commented. "Still not really answered the question…"

"We take care of our own," she told him as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "So why did you save me?" He shrugged.

"I heard there was a plot…in a bar, strangely enough. I don't really trust the cops…or authority really…so I thought I'd come and tell you directly. But when I arrived, you were already walking towards the car and I could just see the red reflection of the light on the device. So…I just acted on instinct." She smiled.

"Good instincts," she complimented him and he grinned back.

"Well, sometimes you need to live on your wits and I'm not the kind of guy who just sits back and watches bad things happen to innocent people." She lifted her crystal glass and sipped her wine.

"Interesting-because most people would assume it was far easier to not get involved-especially if they don't want attention," she pointed out and he shrugged, his left hand reaching out to carelessly unfold then refold the serviette, smoothing the heavy starched material down absently.

"Not who I am," he admitted self-consciously and she inspected him more closely. With his tousled auburn hair, bright emerald eyes and pale, faintly freckled face, he was unusual enoug to attract her attention.

"That's not a Berserk accent," she pointed out. He shrugged.

"Busted," he admitted lightly. "I'm from Berk. Or I was. Had to get out in a hurry…because people there don't like me. Especially the Sons of Odin. Seem to think I'm a nuisance…"

"So who are you, Mister 'I don't like authority and have some people on my tail'?" He flashed her a grin, the lopsided expression self-deprecating.

"Hanson Halvardson," he introduced himself easily and then pulled a face. "Yeah, traditional parents-gotta love 'em!" She smiled at his tone.

"So why not so keen on authority?" she probed, filling his wine took a sip.

"Used to be military-Asgard Squad," he explained, seeing her eyes widen. Asgard Squad were the most infamous Special Ops unit in the Archipelago. They had only been captured on camera once, storming a foreign embassy taken over by terrorists, their enclosing balaclavas ensuring their identities were concealed but their deeds were legendary. "I had a…disagreement with my senior officer. His actions cost two friends their lives. So I broke his jaw…and got court-martialled and dishonourably discharged. And since then, no one will hire me either. So I do what I can. And allowing a lawyer to be blown to Valhalla doesn't feature on my list of 'to do' things…" She smiled at him in surprise.

"You know, my brother will insist I accept a bodyguard," she told him, sipping her wine. The door opened and two neatly dressed servers brought in places of food-poached salmon in a watercress and dill sauce on a bed of wild rice, served with spring greens. The raven-haired woman waited until the servants had left and the door closed before continuing. "And he will appoint some violent thug who will scare away my clients and restrict my freedom and ability to do my job." Hiccup grimaced.

"Which would be a nightmare," he admitted, digging into the food. The salmon was cooked to perfection, the pink flesh falling apart. "Mmm…I must get blown up more often!" She watched him eat with precision, chewing furiously as he attacked the meal with gusto and she smiled.

"I take it your current arrangements are less opulent?" sh checked. He swallowed and wiped his mouth neatly.

"You could say that," he admitted. "The motel I'm in has hot and cold running damp and the only vending machine that works sells rubbers. Even the local Diner has been closed down by the health inspectors." She looked sympathetic.

"You know…you have the qualifications and I do owe you my life," she commented. "Maybe you would consider risking it again and become my bodyguard?" His eyes snapped up.

"Wouldn't your brother have something to say about that?" he checked in a concerned voice. She shrugged.

"I'll deal with Dagur-if you look after me," she said and he paused, then nodded.

"Sounds like the best offer I've had since I was canned," he confessed and grinned.

"Pending a check of your ability to shoot-and a few small background checks…" she amended and he nodded.

"Hey, I wouldn't expect anything less," he told her easily. "You don't get to be a lawyer by being dumb. I'm just grateful that I may be able to move to a motel where the roof doesn't leak even in dry weather!" She began to giggle. "And what's so funny about my dismal accommodation?" he asked in a mock-hurt voice. She just laughed harder.

"It just sounds so dreadful," she commented. "The sort of place even my brother wouldn't admit to owning!" She wiped her eyes. "So what's this dive called?" Hiccup smiled.

"The Edge Motel," he said.

oOo

The sign outside the Edge Motel flickered as miserably as the sign outside Gobber's bar, both 'E's more off than on. Inside his room, Toothless was scowling at his laptop and boiling his small portable kettle to try to make himself some decent coffee. As a soldier and used to the relatively poor accommodation provided by Fury's contracts, he always travelled with a kettle, toaster and two-ring hob packed in his second rucksack with his computers, clothes and weapon in his computer bag. He had just managed to slosh the steaming water onto the brown powder that the local garage had assured him was actually 'value' coffee when the alert sounded on his computer and he snapped back to the screen, his possible-coffee forgotten.

When Hiccup had asked him to set up the intercept and fake website, he had known the man was serious, because it was a risky strategy. If their man was as good as Toothless, he would realise he was being redirected and that the whole thing was a ruse. The one thing helping them was that Asgard Squad was so secret it was monstrously difficult to hack their site so re-directing whoever was tasked with confirming Hiccup's back story to his fake site was relatively simple.

Green eyes narrowing, he swiftly opened the page that had the correct logo, details, contact information and secrecy warnings that he had copied from the real page which he had entered after a lot of effort and allowed the man to scroll down the list of inactive members. As he watched, the cursor hovered over the name of 'Halvardson, Hanson, Second Lieutenant' and clicked on, to reveal Hiccup's actual service photo, his correct biometric data and completely fabricated service record. The only thing Toothless had kept was his expert marksman rating and prowess in unarmed combat-because both would be useful in his cover…if it worked. For family, he was listed as 'orphan, never married'.

But he had and Toothless stared at the screen. He had been Best Man, handing the rings to the happy couple and seeing his friend's face light with such happiness at marrying his lover and best friend. She had completed him and when their son was born, life had been perfect…

…until the Oswaldsons had systematically taken everything from a man whose only crime was to follow the orders he was given by his superiors, sanctioned by the President himself. Those responsible had gotten away scot free while Hiccup had watched his life shatter and had almost died as well. And Toothless could still recall that horrific scene, finding the man all but dying, collapsed mud-smeared and bloody over his own grave, his hand clamped to that of his dead wife. His friend, his smiling, joyous friend had been left in that wood and the driven, ruthless hitman had been all that was remained of his brother-in-arms…but Toothless was determined to help him finish his fell mission because then maybe…just _maybe_ …he could move on and perhaps see some hope for the future. Because, Gods knew, he deserved it.

The steady tap of the keys sounded as he traced the query back to source and smiled. They had taken the bait. He hoped Hiccup had been convincing enough to ensure he was given access to the Berserker organisation.

oOo

Snotlout and Astrid walked up to the warehouse by the canal docks and carried straight on in, knowing they would have been detected by the surveillance cameras. The first man who tried to stop them was unceremoniously punched out by the blonde while Snotlout body-slammed the next. Before the remaining three men could react, they found themselves covered by automatic pistols as Astrid quartered the main warehouse to check for more men-and see what was on offer. Snotlout grinned at the men and walked slowly around them, making them put their hands on their heads and kneel: it was how Oswald and Dagur had their captives wait before they were executed.

Astrid glanced at him. It wasn't that he was an exceptionally bad agent, it was just he was brash, over-confident and incredibly insensitive with low emotional intelligence. If he was just a straightforward law-enforcement agent, he would do fine-but in the very grey world of the Special Intelligence Services, he was hopelessly unsubtle and behind the curve. But he was good at the more physical aspects of the job and had stepped up well to the role of rival gangland boss-eventually. If only he would take the message that Astrid wasn't interested…

She circled round and found a few boxes of ammunition and a small box of grenades-nothing really worth her close attention but the man they had shaken down in the bar that morning had intimated there was a very valuable cargo of Dagur's being stored in this shabby warehouse. But as she peered back, she saw a movement in the gloom beyond the doorway and her pistol snapped round, her entire posture on alert as she inched forward, ready to take down whoever was hiding. Dodging through the door, she pressed back against the wall and then her arm dropped, along with her jaw, as she realised what she was facing.

In the area behind the main warehouse storage area, there was a large cage. And inside, crouched down and looking completely scared and cowed were about a dozen young women. Most were in scruffy clothes, hair straggly and eyes hopeless. Their faces were bruised and all looked thin and very scared. Astrid lowered her gun completely and looked at them, then sighed.

"I think we need to get you out of here," she said quietly and reached for the door. A couple of women started weeping silently and most cringed back. "Hey, hey-I'm not going to harm you," she added gently, unlatching the lock. "Do any of you understand me?" There was a pause and a couple of the women at the back nodded.

"Y-yes," an emaciated young woman said, her copper ringlets framing a bruised face with huge scared grey eyes. Astrid felt her heart sink recognising a Berserker accent. "We-we're from the village of Maniacal in north Berserk. We were captured about six months ago.." She stopped and palmed a tear off her face. "We've been his ever since."

The young blonde agent hunkered down, her heart congealing in her chest. She knew what she was facing and beckoned. "Come on," she said urgently. "Hurry. We need to get you out of here…" It took a lot of urging but finally she managed to get all the girls on their feet-though many were so weak and beaten they could barely walk. She could hear Snotlout rambling on about something and hoped he could watch the men a little longer. Quietly, she padded through the back of the warehouse with her little entourage-and found the truck. It was a simple wagon, nothing specialised but more than sufficient for her purpose and as she helped the girls into the back, she smiled…until she saw the warehouseman that no one had realised was there.

He charged her and in a second, she was flat on her back, almost pinned. But the memory of those girls, of the big frightened eyes and the mute, unspoken pleas for help filled her with fury and she threw him off, spinning to kick him in the face and them clubbing him unconscious with her pistol. She could see the women peering through the flap at the back of the truck, faces shocked that she had resisted-and more so that she had succeeded. With a sinking heart, she guessed that some of their number had tried in the past-with horrible lack of success. She dragged him behind some boxes and checked the key was in the ignition before she raced back into the main warehouse.

"Time to go!" she announced, causing Snotlout to look up.

"But we're just getting started, babe," he grinned. "I was just telling these fellas about my awesome college football record…"

"And they're not bleeding from their ears with boredom yet? I'm impressed," she commented dryly. "Boys-you have precisely five seconds to get to that door before we kill you. How lucky do you feel?" She lifted her pistol and Snotlout stared at her, scowling. He hated not being in the loop, She smiled. "Okay boys…on the count of five…FIVE!" And she fired just over their heads. Needing no more prompting, the Berserkers ran for it with Astrid firing at their heels to keep them running. Then she headed towards the back door and the truck, grabbing a couple of grenades on the way. She handed on to Snotlout and pulled the pin.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on?" he whined.

"Last one to get a grenade in _that_ box of grenades a loser," she taunted him and he perfectly lobbed one in-which hers followed a second later.

"Okay, babe-so now what?" he grumbled as she grabbed him and hauled him through the back door and into the truck. "I knew you couldn't resist me," he added unwisely, earning a punch in the stomach as soon as she shoved him into the cab. There was a pause as she started the engine with a sigh of relief-and then an explosion blew the warehouse apart. Grinning, she peered over her shoulder into the back and the scared women there. Snotlout gaped but for once, he kept his mouth shut as they reversed out of the bay and lurched up the road.

"With any luck, Dagur will think that you went up with the warehouse," she called back to the women. There was a collective hitch of breath. "And don't worry. We have friends who will get you away." She shared a look with Snotlout. "Looks like for the moment, he's on his own…"

oOo

"Okay-so the beanie and sunglasses were bad enough," Toothless growled at the twins. "But the Imperial Stormtrooper helmet, Tuff. Really?"

"Look, T, it did what we wanted," the male twin replied, lying on the couch of Toothless's horrible room, his voice muffled by the white replica helmet.

"Which was?" The tone was impatient.

"Giving the impression we're lunatics," Ruff told him as if it was obvious.

"He's in-and he told us he was okay," Tuff added. Toothless sipped his coffee and grimaced. It was as horrible as he had anticipated.

"They took the bait and looked into his fake profile," he admitted. "If all goes to plan, they'll accept he's available…"

"Have you ever known Fury not to be able to talk his way out of anything?" Ruff asked him with a grin, flopping back on his bed. He sighed.

"This time, he's trying to talk his way _into_ the organisation that murdered his wife and son," he reminded them grimly. "And if they suspect who he is, they won't hesitate to kill him." The twins shared a look and Tuff finally pulled his helmet off.

"Then maybe we should drop in and visit the agents who are supposed to be watching his back," he suggested. "C'mon, Butt-Elf. Let's go make a house call."

oOo

It had been a strain not to hit everything, but Hiccup had managed to lower his usually exceptional scores in the very well-appointed range in the basement of the house so that they would believe that he was worth his 'expert' marksman rating but not to arouse too much suspicion. As the report of the last shot died away, he removed his ear defenders and glasses and stared at the target, pretending to be happy with the performance and fashioning his lopsided grin.

"Not bad, huh?" he managed to the non-committal grunt of the goon assigned to watch over him. The weapon was swiftly handed back and he was led upstairs to the main level and an office where he could hear voices-one of which was Heather and the other was one that haunted his nightmares.

"I don't care who you want to appoint, I'm not having one of your brainless goons following me around, encroaching on my professional meetings and ruining my practice!" Heather snapped.

 _"_ _Better get used to it, sis, because it's happening!"_ Dagur snapped. _"This was a serious attempt. My men tell me that device would have killed you."_

"You don't need to have your knuckles dragging on the sidewalk to guess that, Dagur!" Heather shot back. "But the fact is that I am NOT having one of your idiots peering over my shoulder and interfering. I will make my own arrangements!"

 _"_ _As in the skinny stranger who shoved you out of the way of the blast in the nick of time? And that doesn't seem a bit…convenient to you?"_ Dagur growled over the speakerphone.

"Nothing in this life seems convenient!" Heather snapped. "I wanted to do Family Law, remember? But no-I had to concoct this weird mix of conveyancing, criminal and financial law so that I could be of use to Dad. And because of that, I am almost blown to Asgard! So no, I am not having your man. I checked this guy out and he is what he says-ex-special ops, expert marksman, dishonourable discharge for hitting his superior officer. And seems to have manners, wit and is easy enough on the eye to tolerate. I believe he could even stand in a business meeting and not scare away all my clients."

" _Scores_ _checked_ _out_ ," Dagur commented over the line.

"Do I need to know how you knew that?" Heather growled.

 _'_ _My house, my men, my facilities,"_ the gang boss told her bluntly. _"They ran to me with the results. Does seem to check out of the shooting front."_

"Satisfied?" Heather retorted.

 _"_ _No,"_ Dagur told her equally directly. _"But I'm not gonna dissuade you, am I? So you tell him this from me: doesn't matter what unit he served in-he harms my baby sister and I will hunt him to the ends of Midgard and pull him apart, piece by piece. Did it to the guy who killed Dad-and I'll do it to him."_

"And coming across as psychopathic and disturbed," Heather sighed.

 _"_ _Hello? Deranged?"_ Dagur teased her. " _I'll_ _be_ _watching_ _closely_." Heather sat back.

"When are you coming back to the Compound?" she asked and there was a pause.

 _"_ _Not for the moment,"_ he admitted. _"I'll send for you and we can spend the weekend together. Just the two of us…"_

"And all your men," Heather reminded him. There was a huff.

 _"_ _Love you, sis,"_ Dagur the Deranged said and hung up. Hiccup waited and was then shoved in by his escort as Heather glanced up-and her face lit up on seeing him. He shrugged.

"Sort of heard-sorry," he apologised. "I think the secret is out…" Heather stared at him-and then smiled.

"I'd like to invite you to be my bodyguard, Hanson," she said. "As you were listening, you will know my brother doesn't trust you…but I do. You check out…and you've already saved me. Your social security, military record and discharge all confirm what you said. And I like you." She smiled. "I don't want to be constrained by my brother and his paranoia…so will you be my protector?" He grinned and offered her his hand.

"Heather," he said cheerfully, "It will be my pleasure."

oOo

The twins were wandering through downtown Berserk, heading for the cheap hotel that the agents were staying in. It was suitably inconspicuous, with peeling paint, a restaurant that was closed and a poster of Oswald still displayed proudly on the crumbling wall.

"Looks like they've gone for the hiding in plain sight approach," Ruff commented as they ambled past. "No one would suspect them to be here. It's a dive."

"Looks like it'll fall down any time," Tuff added professionally. "Should have brought their own accommodation." He checked the number scrawled on the back of his hand. "Room Seven…"

A car roared past and the twins ducked, both reaching for their guns. A black SUV screeched round the corner and a machine gun drilled a line into the wall, deliberately defacing Oswald's poster. The twins stared as it screeched down the street and fishtailed out of sight then proceeded to get up from the ground where they had thrown themselves.

"Tuff," Ruff said, staring. "We may have a problem."

"Oh?"

"You know how these spooks are pretending to be a rival gang here to stir up Dagur?"

"Yeah. Good plan." Ruff shook her head urgently.

"Not so much," she told him. "Our pretend rival could have a problem-because a real one has just driven in." Tuff stared. "Tuffnut Laverne Thorston! That was Madguts the Mincer, the Head of the Murderous Syndicate!" Tuff hit his head on the floor.

"Loki," he grumbled. "Now we're in a proper gang war!"

"Yeah-and Fury's right slap in the middle of it!"

**A/N: For Asgard Squad, think SAS**


	7. Family Ties

**Seven: Family Ties**

The twins stared after the vanished SUV then dashed up and through the door to the dilapidated hotel. It was a better standard than Toothless's accommodation but it was in completely the wrong district and now seemed to be in the firing line. Especially as the squeal of tires echoed through the lobby and the chatter of a machine gun echoed through the hotel once more. Ruff grabbed Tuff and hauled him to the floor as the bullets drilled straight through the crumbling wall, letting the weak sunlight eerily penetrate the damp gloom.

"Hey!" Tuff grumbled. "I knew I should have brought the stormtrooper helmet…" Ruff glared at him as she crawled to the Register and peered at the occupants of the rooms.

"I wish you'd brought the rocket launcher," she replied, hauling him to the back of the building and up the stairs to the next floor. "Room 53…47…49…51…here it is…" Then she knocked on the door. "ROOM SERVICE!" Both twins pressed against the doorframe as they heard steps approach and a gentle voice say:

"But I didn't order anything…"

They burst into action, erupted through the door and propelled the husky blonde guy within back all the way to the bed and pinned him down.

"There is no Room Service in this dump," Tuff pointed out.

"And we're here to get you out of here," Ruff added, motioning her brother to close the door. "We're friends of Fury. You're in danger here." A fresh round of gunfire impacted the wall and the building shuddered. "Anything you need to bring?" The husky agent nodded, staring up into her grey-blue eyes and blushing. She was lying across him and he was almost not daring to breathe.

"Um…my computers?" he murmured. "And the others' things? They may not be happy if I leave all their clothes behind…" Ruff stared at him then rolled her eyes and clambered off him, gesturing to the computers.

"You pack them, chubby, and we'll grab the bags," she sighed as the large agent sat up, his face folding into an indignant frown.

"Actually, I'm HUSKY," he told her. "Not…anything else!" She grinned at him as she grabbed clothes and tossed them into the bags. Glaring at her, Fishlegs hastily packed up his computers as the twins listened to the thud of bullets and fidgeted in an agony of urgency. As soon as he had finished, they hauled him down the fire exit and hid behind the bins.

"Where did you park the van, sis?" Tuff asked, peeking out again and she sighed.

"Back at the yard, idiot!" she sighed. "Look-we can flag down a cab…" Fishlegs stared at them.

"Why should I go with you?" he asked as the twins sighed.

"Because Fury needs your help," Tuff told him simply. "This is a job for you-but for him, it's intensely personal. Dagur owes him his life several times over. He took everything from Fury and he's sworn his life to make sure Dagur pays."

"And we're here to make sure he doesn't give his life to do just that," Ruff added. "Also, where we're taking you has kick-ass wifi as well as kick-ass cockroaches." Fishlegs went green.

"Look-we have a geek as well-Fury's best friend," Tuff chipped in. "He says you're real good-so we oughtta help you help him." There was a pause as Fishlegs's blue-green eyes narrowed and he nodded shortly. The hotel was a mess and clearly unsafe…and he was aware that these people may give him a few clues more about Fury-or Hiccup's-mysterious and highly sanitised past.

"I'll need to call the others so they can meet us there," he said and the twins nodded, Ruff walking alongside the heftier man.

"So what do they call you, handsome?" she asked him and he blushed, despite himself.

"Call me Fishlegs," he said. Tuff rolled his eyes.

"Oh Thor-here we go again…" he muttered.

oOo

Heather had put her new bodyguard to work straight away and he was unobtrusively parked in the corner of her office as she sat worked through the remainder of her day, phoning clients, dictating letters to her PA and eventually chatting with one of her friends and eating take-out after they had completed a very long and dull business meeting. Admittedly, she had sent him out to get a suit, since her view of his current outfit was pretty scathing and he had taken less than twenty minutes to return with a black suit, mid green button-down shirt, black tie and shades. Unfortunately, Heather and her friend-Elsa, a beautiful platinum blonde who was also a commercial lawyer-had brought alcohol and between them, they had polished off a bottle of wine and were scoring the males on offer-including Hiccup.

"Love your new toy, Heath," Elsa commented, sipping her wine and giggling. "Brown hair, was it _green_ eyes, delicious body and that jaw…"

"And he came out of nowhere…just saved my life on the street…" Heather smirked, topping up their glasses with the dregs of the bottle. "I mean, he saved my life! And he's very easy on the eye…" Elsa inspected the tall figure standing quietly against the wall and her blue eyes narrowed.

"Oh, he has an excellent ass," she noted. "Have you taken him for a spin yet?" Heather choked on her wine and trust out laughing.

"He's the hired help!" she laughed. "Why would I sleep with him?"

"Because he's cute." Elsa repeated. "I'm not asking you to marry him…just fuck his brains out…" Heather turned her head and stared at the very stiff shape of Hiccup, his hands clasped casually in front of his waist, his eyes staring straight ahead, carefully fixed on the wall. All soldiers learned to ignore distractions while on guard duty and though he was very out of practice, he found focussing on the wall and who the raven-haired woman's brother was very effective in crushing any embarrassment. He had never been a field agent but a sniper sometimes needed to be unobtrusive as he moved through enemy territory to his position…and he was drawing on every second of his experience to convince in his new role.

"I shall take your recommendation under advisement, counsel!" she smirked as they turned back to the prawn toasts.

But later, once Elsa had been seen safely into a taxi, he had driven a very relaxed Heather back to her luxury apartment and supported her into the lobby, punched in her code and travelled with her in the secure elevator up to her penthouse. She had been drooping and giggly and very handsy and for a long moment, he had no choice but to endure her touch.

_Would a poor chancer reject the chance to improve his luck?_

_Probably not…but I'm not what I claim to be._

She dropped the keys-almost certainly on purpose-and he leaned forward and snagged them, unlocking the door and almost collapsing through as Heather leaned drunkenly against him, her hands roaming his body at will. He had to sit her gently on the couch as he turned and locked and bolted the door before he turned back-to find Heather sprawled over the couch in a very suggestive pose. He smiled at her, trying not to appear exasperated but he knew was that this was all to get him closer to Dagur. Carefully, he checked the door once more, then lowered the automatic blinds and checked the phone for messages. The number '1' was flashing urgently and he frowned.

He jumped as a pair of arms wound around him and Heather pressed her head against his back.

"Hmm…she was right…you have an excellent ass…" she slurred, nuzzling against his shirt and pressing hard against him. Breathing hard, he spun to face her and found her leaning up to try to kiss him.

"I must make sure I include that in my resume," he replied sarcastically, grasping her wrists and gently prising them away. "Because that will win me _so_ many jobs…" She pouted and leaned towards his face, rising on tiptoes.

"You could always spend the night with me," she murmured. "As thanks for the job…" His eyes cooled. This wasn't the cool and controlled lawyer but someone very different and much harder to handle.

"I think you need to go to bed," he told her. "Alone."

She whined in disappointment.

"I could order you," she protested and he shrugged.

"I can't guard you if I'm distracted, Heather," he tried to explain, gently attempting to push her away. "I'm certain Dagur would be unimpressed if I leapt into bed with you on my first day on the job." She dug her hands into his tousled auburn hair and ground against him.

"My brother need never know," she pouted. "You don't have to be scared of him…"

"No-because he has has such great reputation for tolerating being crossed! Not even mentioning he's already made clear what he'll do if I hurt you, Heather," he reminded her coolly. "He'll…"

_Bury you in a shallow grave._

"Hiccup?" Her hazy eyes widened as he stilled and then, with a visible effort, he blinked back to the present, dispelling the horrific images that had suddenly washed over him. With a crooked smile, he gently swept her into his arms, carrying her into her bedroom and placing her tenderly on the bed, removing her heels and pulling a blanket up over her.

"Sleep well," he murmured and closed the door behind him with a click, leaving the woman safe in her room. Closing his eyes, he leaned back against the door and scrubbed his face with his hands. He was certain that Dagur would have her apartment under surveillance and he didn't need to tip him off in any way. He would play the good and diligent bodyguard-until he got his shot at the man. Exhaustedly, he checked the front door once more, then settled on the couch, his pistol cradled in his hand.

_This is for you, Milady. You and little bud. No matter what it costs, how much it hurts, I will avenge you._

oOo

Snotlout had driven Astrid almost insane with his self-important boasting as they wound their way down the hill to the Sanctuary. It was a secret location that Astrid knew all too well because she had experience dealing with victims of people trafficking during her time as a probationary agent and the perfectionist she had been had sought out the best possible option for her charges to recover. She had maintained a link with the place, ensuring that referrals were made and funds were diverted to support the centre. So while Snotlout boasted about how awesomely he had performed during the mission, she had driven the slow van with her cargo of terrified and abused women through the forest backroads, doubling back on herself and following the convoluted route she had been taught to locate the place.

It was only as they wound down the zigzag road through ancient pines that the black-haired man had looked up and asked:

"Where the Helheim are we going anyway, Astrid?" She smiled thinly, carefully taking the next hairpin and shifting down as the slope steepened.

"Somewhere safe," she said loudly enough for the women to hear her. Snotlout peered at his phone and tapped it irritably.

"No signal," he protested.

"No tracking," she reminded him and swung right, over a cattle grid and along a muddy track towards a large white farmhouse and a collection of very well-maintained wooden farm buildings. Calmly, she pulled up in the yard and killed the engine before she clambered out. A couple of people were already emerging from the main house, the larger being an huge woman with impressive chest, blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. She wore an unremarkable loose tunic top and a pair of beat-up jeans, along with work boots. At her side stood a spirited woman with long red ringlets and cool green eyes, her movements purposeful as she appraised the blonde intruder. Astrid smiled at her and nodded a greeting.

"Hello, Bertha," she said clearly as the huge woman arched a thick blonde eyebrow.

"Agent Astrid Hofferson," she said and then grinned, opening her arms and hugging the girl warmly. "To what do I owe this honour?" Astrid pulled away and her smile fell a little.

"I'm afraid I've got some customers for you," she said and her voice grew grim. "We rescued them from Berserk." She walked to the back of the truck and lifted the flap, showing the terrified women huddling back. "Taken from Maniacal about six months ago and used by Dagur's organisation since. They've all been physically and sexually abused and have probably witnessed atrocities as well. They need your specialist skills." The woman looked at the trafficked women for a long moment, her eyes infinitely sad-and then she smiled.

"Please, come out," she said, her brisk voice gentler. "My name is Bertha and you are safe. This is the Sanctuary, a secret location for abused women. Astrid here is a supporter." She extended her hand and the thin young woman with the bright copper ringlets warily grasped it and allowed herself to be helped down. She looked over to Astrid and gave a wan smile.

"Thank you," she said in a whisper as Bertha helped the other women down. Some could barely walk while others were so jumpy they were almost frozen with fear. Wisely, Snotlout shut his mouth and hung back as two serious-looking women emerged from the white farmhouse and helped the girls inside. Finally, Astrid and Bertha brought up the rear, the large woman inviting Astrid to have a seat while she settled the women in.

"Help yourselves to coffee," she invited them as she vanished deeper into the house. Snotlout stared after her and then took a seat, staring at the blonde.

"How did you know about this place?" he demanded.

"I take my job seriously," she told him tartly. "And as a woman, I tend to get sent on these sort of missions." Snotlout opened his mouth. "And if you say something ludicrous like 'that's what a woman agent should do', I'll tell Bertha and they can do to you what they do to troublesome bullocks!" His eyes widened and he stroked his disappointing moustache.

"Babe-you know you're fighting off my awesome manliness," he reminded her superiorly. "And you know you'll ultimately lose."

"Really, Snot? You're saying something that stupid in a Women's Collective?" she asked him and he gave a small scream. "Bertha Bogby is the last of the ancient ruling line of BogThorpe. And as you know, the Bogs are a feminist society. You are very much a second class citizen in this place so I would advise your next words are considered very carefully…" He glared at her and then checked his phone.

"Who builds a place where there is no mobile signal?" he grumbled, staring at the words NO SERVICE still firmly flashing in the upper left corner of his phone. "I mean, how are we supposed to check how Fishface is going on?"

"Fish is an agent in his own right and at the moment, we're monitoring how Fury's going," she reminded him in exasperation, making them both coffees. "And we've established you as a very dangerous rival gang boss. Let Dagur stew for the moment and try to anticipate your next move!" She handed Snotlout a cup and he rose, heading back to the counter and adding cream and three sugars. He sipped the hot liquid, his blue eyes sweeping round the nice little sitting room and then he started.

"Astrid…" he murmured.

"What now?" she asked irritably. He scowled.

"Why is there a picture of that murderer Fury in this room?" he asked and pointed. Astrid was on the point of snapping at him when her eyes followed his gesture and she froze. On the ugly brick fireplace was a picture in a simple polished wood frame of a couple on their wedding day. A young blonde woman with bright blue eyes and a pretty, laughing face was leaning close to a familiar face-maybe a four years younger-with his auburn hair cut short in a military style, his emerald eyes sparkling with love and happiness. He was in his dress uniform and he was smiling-but it was undoubtedly Hiccup Haddock, the man known as the assassin Night Fury. Eyes locked on the picture, Astrid rose and walked slowly to the picture, lifting it and staring into the face of a man who was undoubtedly having the happiest day of his life.

"What happened to you?" she murmured, staring at the couple as she heard steps close. Bertha peered over her shoulder and sighed.

"My daughter, Camilla, and her husband," she sighed and there was a sadness in her voice that had Astrid turning to stare at her.

"Your Daughter?" she murmured, filing the information away. She had heard of Cami Bogby but she had never ever seen an image of the remarkable young woman. "She looks happy…" And then she paused. "But something happened…" she realised. The big woman nodded.

"She died two and a half years ago," she murmured. "It was a car wreck, deep in Frenzied Forest in East Berserk. She, her husband and their son were all killed."

 _But he didn't die,_ Astrid thought, controlling her face carefully. _What happened, Fury? Did you never tell her that you survived? Was it your fault? Or does she know and is she protecting you?_

"Her son?" she forced herself to say and Bertha's face tilted in a sad smile. She fished out another image of the little family, a chunky boy with wild strawberry hair and big blue eyes sitting on Camilla's lap with the proud father kneeling by her, a finger gripped by his grinning son.

"Sam," she said sadly. "He was only eighteen months old-a beautiful bright little boy. Cami was my only child and to lose her and Sam all in one go was…devastating." Astrid replaced the picture and rested a comforting hand on her arm.

"I'm sorry," she said genuinely. Bertha nodded.

"She helped me set up this place," she admitted. "She was only eighteen at the time and she cared so much about helping others recover from being victims of unspeakable acts. She was a remarkable young woman-and her husband was so caring, so loving…"

 _He was a Black Ops sniper who killed whoever he was told no matter who or what they were,_ Astrid thought treacherously. _But I don't doubt that you loved your family…and losing them would be devastating. Maybe enough to cause you to abandon your career and become a gun for hire?_

"So I help others in Cami's memory and hope that the work is enough to replace the people I've lost," Bertha said and blinked. Then her mask was back in place. "The girls are all settling in and we will offer them the chance to write or record testimonies over the next weeks and months so if there is ever a trial, their evidence will be documented. And even if not, the cathartic process will aid their healing." Astrid drained her coffee and nodded.

"Thank you," she said. "We'll leave you to your work. Come on, Snot…"

But as they clambered into the truck and began to bounce along the uneven, muddy track once more, Snotlout stared at her.

"What was that?" he asked. "I mean, we both know he's still alive…" Astrid nodded slowly.

"Yes, we do," she said. "And now we have another piece of the puzzle that can tell us exactly who Hiccup Haddock is, what happened to him and what is between him and Dagur. Because no matter what he claims, it's personal."

oOo

The Edge Motel was even less welcoming from the outside than the shot-up remains of his hotel but Fishlegs was nothing if not professional. He followed the twins in, having spent an interesting bus ride with them to this very unfashionable end of town and clambered up to an unremarkable room with the '3' in the 23 of the room number hanging askew. The twins knocked, paused, knocked again and then paused.

"Will you two stop messing around!" an irritated voice yelled from inside the room and the door was wrenched open, revealing a fit looking man with darkly tanned skin, luminous green eyes and spiky, messy black hair. He peered through his thick-rimmed glasses and shook his head. "Come in," he sighed and turned back into the room. Tuff started forward and Ruff shoved Fishlegs in before her, then locked and bolted the door. Slowly, the husky agent spun around and inspected the miserable surroundings.

"I've been in better jails," he commented, "but I believe we're on the same team." The black-haired man sat on a wobbly chair by the tiny desk and flipped his laptop open.

"Look-even the cockroaches are desperate to escape from here," he commented. "And yes-I'm Taron Drake…"

"Fury's handler," Fishlegs said thoughtfully, sitting on the couch that sagged deeply under his weight. "I presume you were with him in the Army?" Slowly, Toothless nodded.

"You're the geek, the computer and electronics guy," he replied and Fishlegs shrugged.

"Of course, you appreciate that I also have well-honed observational skills and the ability to associate facts and synthesise a hypothesis…because you share those traits," he said evenly. "I'm just not really a field agent…"

"Though there is a reasonably demanding minimum weapons standard you will have met to be active," Toothless replied as Fishlegs awarded him a small nod at his own thorough homework.

"The stench of thinking is making me feel dizzy," Tuff announced. "Can I have my helmet back…?"

"And them?" Fishlegs asked, fishing out his computer and logging onto the wifi. The twins instantly crossed their arms and leaned against each other.

"Thorston and Thorston Investigators," Ruff announced snugly.

"These mutton-heads were in the army with us and they quit when I did," Toothless explained, peering at his screen. "They're actually gun shop owners."

"Really?" Fishlegs's tone was alarmed. "And they haven't blown themselves up yet?"

"Not yet-though they have a diverse skill set…"

"We blagged our way into your room, big boy!" Ruff reminded him.

"HUSKY!" he snapped back.

"Nuance," Tuff retorted. Toothless slowly looked up at the twins and scowled, gesturing to his laptop angrily.

"Just when were you going to tell me that a gang war has broken out- _for real_ -in Berserk?" he demanded. Tuff looked unrepentant and then grinned and grabbed his Stormtrooper helmet.

"Now?" he guessed. "Look-Fury is in and this is what we faked. For the moment, we can use it to our advantage…"

"The whole point was that we controlled what the 'rival gang' did," Fishlegs told him in exasperation. "Now, we have no control and the others are out of coms range. Fury is on his own." The other three all stared at him.

"What?" Toothless demanded. Fishlegs shrugged.

"They've taken a truck of abused women to a safe place out of town," he said. "If we're lucky, they'll be back by nightfall…though they won't have a clue where we are." Removing his glasses, Toothless rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly.

"You two-get out there and be waiting for them!" he ordered as the twins looked outraged.

"Why is it always us?" Tuff protested.

"NOW!" Toothless yelled and they got up and huffed out.

"Tyrant," Tuff grumbled as the door slammed. Both men stared after them and Fishlegs shrugged.

"I guess they'd get on well with Snotlout," he commented and offered his hand. "Finlay 'Fishlegs' Ingerman." Toothless shook his hand. "Look-I can tell that Fury has very personal reasons why he took the mission…and it was't for a big pile of money. On the way here, he jerked awake from a nightmare-he was thrashing as he woke, his gun in his hand. Something bad happened to him." Toothless gave a grim smile and sat back, reaching down to click on his kettle and snare his little jar of definitely-not-coffee.

"A lot of bad things have happened to him," he admitted. "And Dagur is responsible for the worst ones. You don't have to worry that he won't uphold his end of the deal-I can guarantee that Hiccup will do everything possible to complete the mission-even if it costs him his life." Then he turned his piercing gaze on the husky agent. "And we're here to stop it coming to that."

oOo

Hiccup was up early, making himself and his charge freshly brewed coffee and waffles and bacon. Then he logged onto Heather's computer as a guest and got Toothless to dig him out the schematics of Heather's building. He was finishing his second cup of coffee and wondering if he could grab a shave when he heard stirring and the sounds of the shower running. Making a few more mental notes about ways in and out and potential weak points and lines of fire, he snapped the computer closed as he saw the door open and a weary and damp Heather wander out on her fluffy dressing gown. He grinned.

"Morning!"

She muttered something unintelligible and stumbled to the coffee pot, sloshing out a huge mug of the hot liquid. Sipping it, she slouched to the table and sat opposite the hitman.

"My head is exploding," she grumbled. "Aren't you supposed to protect me?"

"From assassination-not suicide," he grinned back at her, his eyes twinkling with scant sympathy. "There are ibuprofen in the counter drawer and I put a pitcher of water in the fridge. There are waffles warming in the oven and I would recommend them with maple syrup, not bacon. The effects of hangover are primarily mediated by dehydration, salt loss, gastrointestinal disturbances, low blood sugar and disturbance of sleep so drinking plenty of water, non-steroidal painkillers, caffeine and uncomplicated food including syrup should address these issues." He rose and served her a plate of waffles with syrup, large glass of water, pair of tablets and another coffee. Raising her bleary eyes, she gave a grateful smile and tucked in as he walked to the door and peered at the phone on the way.

A red '14' was flashing and he frowned.

"I think you need to answer your messages," he advised her and she nodded, munching through her waffles but once she had finished and was looking appreciably brighter, she walked to the machine and stabbed the button.

"It will be Dagur, hovering over me like a mother hen," she said irritably. "He forgets I'm a grown woman." And she rolled her eyes as the familiar voice of her brother filled the room.

_"_ _Sis-call me as soon as you can. This is important. There's some new players in town and they're shooting the place up indiscriminately. I need you in the Main Compound."_

_"_ _Hey, sis-still waiting for your call."_

_"_ _Heather Oswaldson-this is not funny. Ring me."_

_"_ _That bodyguard of yours better not be abusing my generosity."_

_"_ _Heather-if I find he's fucked you, I'm burying him in a shallow grave."_

_"_ _Sis-this is really important-call me!"_

She stared at the machine and rolled her eyes again. "Drama queen," she condemned him and grabbed her cell, stabbing in the number and putting it on speaker as she sat down and sipped her coffee.

 _"_ _About time!"_ Dagur snapped over the line. _"Where the Helheim have you been?"_

"In my bed. Asleep. Alone, in case your nasty mind had any ideas…"

 _"_ _Is that so-called bodyguard with you?"_ Dagur growled and Hiccup sipped his coffee, looking unconcerned-though inside he was fighting a toxic mixture of hatred and fury.

"Of course," Heather snapped. "He's stayed guarding the apartment. I guess you hate that I've found my own guy to protect me."

 _"_ _I don't trust him,"_ Dagur told her bluntly. _"You're my only living relative and I won't let anything happen to you! So please, sis-do as I ask. Come straight to the Compound. You can even bring your pet bodyguard if you want-as long as he doesn't get in my way."_ Heather sighed.

"I'm getting my things from the office," she told him sternly. "If you want to disrupt my practice, the last you can do is let me get what I need…"

_"_ _No! I absolutely forbid…"_

"See you later Dag!" she said and stabbed the red button to end the call-before she looked up, her green eyes mischievous. "Okay-I'm getting a few things and then you can take me to the office…" Hiccup shook his head, sighing as he rubbed his stubbly chin.

"You would be safer heading straight for the Compound," he pointed out as she scowled.

"I need my computer…" she protested. He gestured. "My _work_ computer, not my home one. And the files from the most recent issues I'm dealing with for Dagur… And I am the woman in charge so you do what you're told, Hanson!" He stared at her and then rose with a sigh.

"I'm not going to talk you out of this," he realised dryly. "You get what you need-and I'll drive. And you need to do _exactly_ what _I_ say, Heather-because if you don't, Dagur may be down to no relatives."

It was almost an hour later when they left, a bag slung over Hiccup's shoulder as Heather walked elegantly behind him. He took her straight down to secure parking and checked the car before loading her bags in and swinging out onto the main road. Calmly, he took them down to the lights as a large black SUV pulled up behind them, shadowy shapes sitting behind tinted glass. He had glimpsed a Meathead license plate as the vehicle pulled inches behind them and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Frowning, he dropped the side window and pulled his pistol from the holster before he thumbed off the safety as he saw the SUV shudder with a huge rev of the engine. Instantly, he reacted, slamming the gas pedal to the floor, lurching forward and just missing a small family saloon as they roared across the traffic a a cacophony of horns.

"What the Hel…" Heather yelled as the SUV roared after them and the crash of bullets smashed through the rear window.

"Down!" he shouted, drifting the car round the curve and flooring it, then exploding along the arrow-straight side road and spinning a donut as the SUV swung into view. As they spun, he snapped off three shots, bursting the front tyres and hitting the windshield directly in front of the driver's head. The screen held but the jagged impact shattered lines across the glass, obscuring half the view. And then he jerked the car round again and fishtailed them into an alley, roaring down the narrow space, slamming bins aside as they went. The SUV followed, sparks scraping from their wings as they squeezed after the lawyer,

"Who are they?" she yelled.

"I could always stop and ask them…or we could get away and find out afterwards," he yelled back, fighting the car. "Which do you prefer?" She glared as he spun round and went the wrong way through a left hand filter, racing through a pedestrian street and demolishing several tables outside street cafes. A variety of hot drinks splashed across the windshield and the wipers smeared latte and cappuccino evenly over his view.

"Are you trying to get us sued?" Heather shouted.

"No-do you want to be?" he replied, frowning as he cut the corner and ran over a cardboard Viking outside 'Erik's Viking Pizza'.

"Watch the road!" she yelled

"But we're on the sidewalk!" Hiccup replied evenly as they erupted into the main Plaza and crashed through a flowerbed before they skidded onto the main road towards the compound. Two new black SUVs moved in to intercept them.

 _What the Hel? Guys-this wasn't in the plan…but…_ He frowned at the chatter of a machine gun that stitched their trunk. _Odin-these aren't my team…and I didn't come here to be killed stupidly._

Without even hesitating, he spun round and drove straight at them, crashing between the two SUVs, slamming them aside with glancing side-swipes as he swung left and then left again around the compound to the front entrance. Before Heather could even react, they screeched to a halt and he erupted from the car, grabbing her bag and her arm, hauling her out and almost throwing her through the front door-and then walking back out onto the street.

"Stay down…" he growled, his arm swinging up with his gun in hand. Dagur's men at the entrance watched in such shock they forgot to close the door as they saw the SUVs park and men run forward. And then the auburn-haired man started firing, dropping the men who were clutching the machine guns before they could even get off another round. The others realised they were in danger and began to fire at him but though they tried to pin him down behind the car, he only ducked down to reload-and every volley had men dropping until the last man reached within five yards of the car and fell to three shots to the head. Icily, he walked forward, shooting anyone still twitching before turning back to the main compound and walking coolly in through the door.

"Hanson?" Heather gasped, watching him in shock as he gestured.

"Lock the damned door," he growled, still breathing hard. "Whoever these mutton-heads are, they have friends and they don't seem scared of Dagur. And I have no clue how they knew our route or where Heather lives…" The door slammed and he suddenly faced a forest of guns. A man with a cruel scarred face and mean amber eyes walked forward as he dropped his gun.

"You know-I think we need to ask you that," he said.


	8. Complicated

**Eight: Complicated**

Hiccup faced the guns pointed at him and slowly raised his hands, his emerald eyes still glittering with anger at the ambush he had just escaped. Adrenaline was surging through his veins like the most potent drug and he felt on edge, as he always had during a firefight but he knew he had to remain cool and in control. He had known this was dangerous when he came up with the plan but for these idiots to imagine that he had anything to do with this…

"Alvin! You moron! tell your goons to lower their guns! He saved me!" Heather was on her feet and shoving the huge man aside, her green eyes blazing with anger at the stupidity of the situation. "Have you spoken to my brother about what's going on?" The man's scarred face twisted, his bushy beard moving as he chuckled.

"He doesn't trust your little pet bodyguard, Heather and he's pretty pissed you didn't come back when you were ordered…" he scoffed.

"I'm not one of his mindless thugs," she snapped, drawing herself up and glaring at the big man. "I am Heather Oswaldson! Now lower your weapons! He was with me the whole time and had nothing to do with the ambush. We were isolated outside my apartment building-clearly they were watching me. So who is the issue, Alvin, and why are they after me?" Hiccup sighed.

"You're Dagur's sister-which is a pretty dangerous thing to be, considering his line of work," he pointed out.

"Shut up!" Alvin snarled.

"Cool your jets, Al!" he shot back, a small smirk lifting his lips. "You wanna hear who the shooters are? Or do you want to just bolster your tiny little ego?" The man growled and his huge fists clenched but Heather glared at the thugs and the guns lowered. "They all had Meathead license plates and were all top of the range SUVs with bullet-proof glass and armour plating. Four men per vehicle, all armed including automatic weapons. Someone really doesn't like your brother…" Heather flipped her braid over her left shoulder and her lips tightened into a thin line.

"What's he done now?" she growled. "Odin Almighty-why can't he just behave like a civilised human being?"

 _Because he's a rabid dog who should be put down like the monster he is,_ Hiccup thought, lowering his hands and watching her. She paused and looked pointedly at him.

"Come on," she snapped irritably. "You're supposed to protect me. So come on-bodyguard. We need to speak to my brother!" Controlling his face with an effort of will, Hiccup smiled pleasantly at the Berserker thugs and retrieved his weapon, flipping on the safety and holstering it expertly before walking after Heather. But as he followed, his hand brushed the gun and he flipped the safety off once more. If he faced Dagur, he may get one shot, one single, solitary chance to avenge his wife and son…and he wanted to be ready to take it.

No matter the cost.

oOo

Both Toothless and Fishlegs had tracked the chase and the subsequent massacre on the plentiful CCTV cameras of Berserk. Fishlegs had been shocked and amazed at Fury's efficiency in killing all the Meatheads who had tried to ambush them while Toothless leaned forward, his eyes dark with concern.

"He's angry," he murmured as the husky agent looked at him.

"That was…incredible," Fishlegs commented as Toothless removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

"We both know he was a Black Ops sniper," he revealed with a sigh. "Meaning he has a perfect weapons rating and has been sent to a variety of hellholes and war zones in the service of his country…"

"With you at his side," Fishlegs added quietly with insight. Toothless nodded.

"But usually he's icy and in control," he said thoughtfully. "He was furious. It may make him sloppy." The agent stared at the other man and didn't reply: to his inexpert eye, the ruthless dispatch of the unknown gang attackers had looked very controlled and efficient. But there was clearly something else they weren't telling the agents-and it related to Dagur. He opened his mouth to ask a question when Toothless's phone rang and he stared at the screen-and then he turned away, accepting the call.

"Yes? No, Mr Haddock is currently in a business meeting and is unavailable for the next several hours. May I take a message?" he asked in a very business-like voice. He paused and then his face grew grim. "No, Mr Haddock is very clear that all life-sustaining and life-prolonging measures should be continued. As soon as he is able, he will come but until then, you must continue. No, I am aware of the prognosis but Mr Haddock is adamant. Continue all measures. I will speak to him as soon as he is available. Thank you."

Fishlegs stared at him in shock.

"Should I be concerned?" he asked mildly as Toothless stared at the phone.

"No," he said quietly. "Just the day we all knew would happen-at the worst possible time." He paused.

"Can I help?" the husky agent offered and Toothless sighed.

"Unless you have a long term cure for being shot in the head and remaining in a coma for two years, then no," he said grimly. "I can't tell Fury because he would be conflicted. But this is his chance to finally get his revenge. He has given up everything for this…and it may cost him one more thing."

"What's that?"

"The chance to say goodbye to his father."

oOo

It was with an immense sense of disappointment that Hiccup faced Dagur through a giant screen as the siblings argued over the video link. The hugely magnified shape of Dagur's scarred and angry face filled the screen as he yelled at his sister. Heather was yelling back and the 'bodyguard' remained in the background, hoping the man wouldn't connect the supposed ex-Valhalla Squad member with the man Dagur supposedly murdered two and a half years earlier.

"Of all the stupid irresponsible ridiculous childish selfish…" Dagur growled.

"SELFISH?" Heather retorted angrily. "Okay, let's talk about selfish. Let's talk about deliberately ruining my career plans so I have to be embroiled in your illegal activities. Let's talk about oppressing and murdering people just to gain more power to bolster your pathetic little ego which translates into me being imprisoned in the Compound because everyone else hates you so much I am a damned target!"

"I'm doing it because it is our heritage!" Dagur shouted.

"And I'm trying to make a better future…if you'd stop messing up my life," she growled. "You know I wanted to do family law-and you and Dad wrecked that. And now, like it or not, I'm embroiled in some damned gang war when all I want to do is stop that illegal redevelopment on the south side of the city." There was an annoyed huff and Dagur rolled his eyes before shrugging. And then his thick brows dipped.

"You know, sis-I think we can negotiate," he said smoothly in the deceptively sane voice that haunted Hiccup's nightmares. "I can ensure you are able to stop that development and will personally help...if you stay in the compound and lend me your bodyguard to help deal with the Meatheads..." Head snapping up in shock, Hiccup stared at the enlarged image, his eyes narrowing.

"What did you have in mind?" Heather asked, crossing her arms. There was a pause.

"He's Valhalla Squad, isn't he?" the gang boss said and Heather nodded. "So he can infiltrate them and kill their leader. And if he does that, he can have anything he wants!"

 _There's only one thing I want, you rabid sonova bitch-to put a bullet between your eyes!_ Hiccup thought, controlling his face. But he took a deep breath and nodded.

"All I want is the honour of meeting you," he said clearly. "And to become one of your men..." Dagur leaned closer to the camera and his horribly distorted face filled the screen.

"Oh, that happened when you walked through that door at my sister's side," he said coldly. "Okay, Hanson. You got a deal! You kill the Meatheads and I will thank you in person!" Forcing himself to nod, the hitman smiled.

"Okay-so what do we know about them?" he asked.

oOo

Astrid had tuned out Snotlout's incessant whining by the time they returned to the city limits of Berserk and by mutual agreement, they parked the truck in front of the police station and calmly walked away, vanishing into the rush hour foot traffic. As they rounded the corner, Snotlout looked over his shoulder and frowned.

"Won't they trace it to us?" he asked and she silently rolled her eyes, wondering how he had ever qualified as an agent.

"Registered to Dagur's fake company," she reminded him sharply as they headed up the long avenue towards the centre of the city, walking a straight line through the commuters who headed determinedly back to their homes in the suburbs. Snotlout was already complaining about his feet and she felt a headache beginning to throb behind her eyes as they rounded the corner towards their hotel…

…to find it cordoned off by the police, with yellow tape and a couple of police units taking names and asking for witnesses. Azure eyes narrowing, Astrid rapidly scanned the scene-then hauled Snotlout on as he began to protest and ask what was happening. They managed to get round the corner before she slammed him against the wall and leaned close.

"Shut. Up…" she growled as he cocked an eyebrow overconfidently.

"Babe," he smirked. "Can't keep your hands off of me, huh?"

"AAARGH!" she yelled and punched him in the middle. "You mutton-headed half-troll! Those were automatic rounds from a mid-calibre weapon! The hotel was attacked-and we aren't getting in. We need to find if Fish is okay…"

A finger tapped her on the shoulder and she spun, gripping the finger and bending it back as she forced a lanky man in a Stormtrooper helmet to his knees. A snub-nose .22 Sif pistol levelled at his head.

"OW!" the man protested. "Look, Fury never said anything about being attacked! This was not in the deal!"

"How dare you…what?" she snapped and glared at the man. A woman of similar build with long thick blonde braids emerging from a saggy brown beanie shook her head.

"And we were told the guy was the dumb one," she sighed. "Easy, spitfire. My idiot brother may look like a Stormtrooper but he fights like a weedy girl. Your friend is safe. He's with our hacker." There was a brief pause and Astrid lowered her gun.

"Your hacker," she repeated, her eyes scanning the odd pair. "You're Fury's friends?"

"Bingo! Told you the girl would be the smart one," the female said smugly as her Stormtrooper brother scrambled to his feet. "Yup. He doesn't trust You Archipelago Intelligence types. Thinks you wanna put him in prison for about three centuries..."

"Two...with time off for good behaviour," Astrid corrected her dryly. "And your hacker..."

"Is the reason why none of us appear anywhere on any search..." the woman explained. "I'm Ruffnut and the idiot in the Stormtrooper helmet is my weedy twin brother Tuffnut..."

"The chicken is not amused," Tuff said firmly.

"Come with us and we can reunite you with your friend-and we can fill you in on what's been happening..." Ruff said cheerfully.

"Well, hello gorgeous," Snotlout said with a wink. "You mean you wanna fill in the Snotman on who shot up our hotel..." Pale grey eyes looked over at Astrid.

"Yuck," Ruff said. "Does he really think that will ever work?" The blonde agent nodded.

"But to date, no one has ever actually fallen for it," she commented dryly. "I mean, somewhere out there, there may be some woman so stupid, desperate and blind she may think Snot is a good prospect…"

"Hey Princess-you're just jealous that I'm paying attention to this beautiful babe…but there's plenty of the Snotman to go round…"

"Ugh!" both women said together as Tuff pulled his Stormtrooper helmet off.

"Nope-they both hate you," he pointed out. "Now-this area is actually dangerous and I'm not paid to get killed for no good reason."

"You're not getting paid at all," his twin pointed out as they slid into the alley between the two buildings. Astrid and Snotlout followed them. "This is for Fury. Thor, he's as focussed as a laser sight and is definitely going to get himself killed if he's not more careful." Astrid inspected them closely and realised these were Fury's friends, people who knew who he truly was and would risk their lives to help him. So perhaps they knew his name…and could help them finish the mission.

They headed through alleys, backstreets and along the canal to the sounds of Snotlout moaning that his feet were hurting and he didn't deserve to have to put up with all of this…much to Astrid's irritation and she wondered for the thousandth time how come he ever qualified to be an agent. Then she sighed and followed him, memorising the route and realising they were heading for the worst part of town, finally arriving at a motel which looked like it was on there verge of being closed down for health code violations. The sign flickered as Astrid walked past and they headed unerringly up to the upper level to a room with a crooked '23' on the door. Tuff began a series of knocks, then pauses, then further knocks.

"I swear to Odin, one of these days I am going to shoot you if you don't stop messing around!" a voice yelled from inside the room. There were steps and then Fishlegs ripped the door open. His eyes widened and he gave a small smile as he saw his fellow agents.

"Come in-before Toothless kills you," he said happily and ushered them in. Tuff instantly threw himself onto the couch and then had a scuffle with Snotlout who was trying to do the exact same thing. Astrid swept her keen gaze over the room and sighed. It was a single motel room with the desk cleared and housing two computers, additional screens and extra equipment-with a kettle, electric ring and microwave set up neatly on the floor. Fishlegs was gesturing to the deeply tanned, raven-haired man with acid green eyes. She nodded a curt greeting.

"Toothess, I presume," she said briskly and he eyed her up.

"Special Agent Astrid Hofferson," he replied calculatingly. "The smart one. I see what Fury meant. Impressive." She folded her arms and inspected the man. He was poised, self-confident and just a little mocking, his drawl an affectation because she had heard the same voice yell in exasperation at Tuffnut…though from spending ten minutes with the male twin, she could understand the sentiment.

"I should have guessed that Fury couldn't be such a successful assassin without a back-up team," she said evenly. "And it is reassuring that the man can dial down his sarcasm enough to allow anyone to get close."

"Hey-Fury is a great guy when you're not some asshole trying to put him in prison for three hundred years!" Ruff retorted as Snotlout glared at her.

"Should be four hundred-since he's a conscienceless murderer," he growled. "He should be locked away for ever…"

"Wow-glad to see the spirit of rehabilitation and mitigating circumstances is alive and well in the Archipelago, Snotknee," a familiar voice said as Hiccup appeared at the door, walking in and swiftly slamming it closed.

"Fury!" Toothless gaped. "What happened? I thought we had you embedded!" The man collapsed back on the bed and groaned, throwing his arm across his face.

"So did I…but there is a complication," he admitted, closing's eyes wearily.

"The Meatheads-and I don't mean Snot," Astrid put in.

"Ha ha-very funny, babe," the stocky young man sneered.

"You okay, H my man?" Tuff asked, lying down next to Hiccup and the auburn-haired man stared at him.

"I knew you were the Stormtrooper," he commented, "though not quite got the hang of _inconspicuous_ …"

"Hiding in plain sight," Tuff said with satisfaction and laced his hands behind his head-and helmet. "No one would suspect me as being covert surveillance."

"Well, not of the 'covert' part, in any case," Hiccup noted sarcastically. "Anything on the newcomers?"

"A few hits and a drive-by shooting," Toothless reported.

"They've just raided the Skrill's Prey Bar and shot it up," Fishlegs piped up.

"Yadda yadda-we did that as well," Snotlout scoffed in a bored voice, folding his arms as Astrid leaned forward, catching the edge to the husky agent's voice.

"Fish?"

"They killed everyone-execution style," the agent explained quietly. Hiccup sat up immediately, his emerald eyes narrowed and he was up in one movement, leaning over the husky man's shoulder, eyes focussed on the screen.

"Well, the hotel was shot up by Madguts the Mincer," Ruff reported and Hiccup stiffened, his eyes dark with concern.

"What?" he muttered. "Not the Meatheads?"

"Nope-we can all recognise Madguts," Ruff said firmly as Hiccup shook his head.

"This makes things… _more_ complicated," he said in a thoughtful voice. "I know Madguts-and he knows me. There is no chance I could infiltrate his organisation without him recognising me."

"The perils of being popular," Toothless commented, pulling his glasses on and peering at the screen.

"Wait-the Head of the Murderous Syndicate is here?" Astrid asked him in surprise.

"Guess they must have assumed that the false challenge you made to Dagur's supremacy with your fake 'Meatheads' muscling in on his territory was pathognomonic of a diminution of Dagur's authority to the extent that the Murderous Syndicate were emboldened to make their move," Tuff said from the bed. Everyone paused and stared at him and Ruff asked over and ripped the stormtrooper helmet off. then cuffed him around the head

"OW!"

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" she demanded as Astrid stared at Hiccup.

"Why are you here? You mentioned a complication," she reminded him and he nodded.

"If I am to get to meet Dagur, I need to prove myself-and kill the leader of the invaders," he said grimly. "I was hoping to infiltrate but…" Astrid nodded.

"You worked for him and he's met you before…so you can't get close as you'd be picked," she murmured. "Can I help?"

There was a pause and the twins and Toothless stared at her.

"No-I absolutely forbid it!" Snotlout said unwisely and Astrid strode over and punched him without hesitation.

"You do know infiltration involves patience, quick-thinking and acute situational awareness?" Toothless asked her. She nodded.

"I am a Special Agent," she reminded him.

"Not really impressed by the performance of the Secret Service so far," the man commented. Astrid frowned.

"Look-you set Snot and I up as would-be gang members…so maybe we should exploit that and make contact with Madguts," she suggested.

"Hey-I never agreed to anything…" the stocky agent protested.

"Better and better," Ruff commented.

"We should be able to arrange a meeting with him and offer to join forces…" Astrid suggested.

"Oh…bad move…" Toothless murmured. "He's insanely paranoid! He won't take you up on that…except to ambush you…" And then Astrid turned to Hiccup and the flash of big blue eyes sent a chill of recognition through him. For a second, he could only stare at her, his expression stricken-and then his laconic mask was back in place.

"Would that give you the shot you need?" she asked him directly. He stared at her and arched an eyebrow.

"You realise he may kill you on sight before I get a clear shot!" he warned her. "His men are the worst of the worst…"

"Except Dagur," Astrid reminded him. "And he has to be dealt with…" Suddenly he leaned close to her, so close she could feel the warmth radiating off his lean shape.

"How dirty are you willing to get on this mission, Special Agent?" he asked her in a low voice, the rough edge sending chills down her spine. She stared boldly into his green gaze.

"Dagur is the worst scourge to the face of the Archipelago," she said calmly. "He's ruining hundreds of lives. We just liberated a group of girls he was…exploiting…" And she was rewarded by a tightening of his expression.

"So you're willing to help me to murder a man?" he asked her sarcastically. She frowned.

"Madguts the Mincer is wanted for multiple counts of murder, extortion, drugs offences and prostitution," she retorted and he smiled lopsidedly.

"And you're a Special Agent for the Archipelago," he reminded her. "You're supposed to arrest people, not just _kill_ them." She crossed her arms and smirked.

"That's right-that's why I engaged _you_ to do it," she said smugly. "Because all legal means just haven't worked and the man has turned and killed so many agents that he has to be stopped. He is a threat to all of us." He leaned closer and stared deep into her eyes.

"So are you prepared to authorise his murder to end Dagur?" he asked her sardonically. She took a deep breath.

"By whatever means necessary…" she murmured, recalling the terrified faces of the women. "Yes." And then, unexpectedly, he smiled.

"Good answer," he said. "Okay, T-what have we got on their location…?" But before the man could speak, Fishlegs looked up and raised his hand.

"Before we start, isn't there something you need to let him know about?" he suggested, earning himself a glare. There was a stony silence and Hiccup inspected the man closely and then swung his green glare to Toothless. There was the faintest hint of betrayal.

"Toothless?" he murmured. There was a pause and then the man sagged, a sigh shuddering through him.

"The hospice called," he said softly. "It's time. I've told them to continue but…there isn't anything more to do."

"How long?" The words were emotionless.

"Any time," Toothless said. "But it will be today."

And he and the twins hated themselves when they saw the flash of pain, dark and boundless in those familiar green eyes, saw the tightening of the man's jaw and knew that he was bracing himself for the loss of the last person he loved. They had been with him through everything and all of his friends knew what this would do to the man. So Toothless bent down and tossed him a set of keys.

"Go," he said. "We'll be here when you get back."

oOo

Hiccup didn't even recall the drive, knowing only it was too fast and he broke pretty much every traffic regulation he could in his desperation to get to the isolated nursing facility. He cut people up, blasted through gaps that were barely there and slewed up the gravel drive, parking haphazardly and sprinting into the facility, the headlamps still on. He arrived at the desk.

"Stoick Haddock," he said grimly. The receptionist looked up and there was sympathy in her eyes.

"He's in room…"

"Got it!" he said and ran on, heading along the familiar corridor, his breathing burning in his throat as he rounded the corner and headed up to the open door.

But in the room, still and quiet, Stoick Haddock lay on the bed, his tubes and drips removed, his eyes closed and skin washed of all colour. There was a fresh vase of bright yellow flowers on the bedside table in the room, the white voile curtains pulled back to allow the last of the warm evening light to stream into the room-but there was no signs of life. Hiccup paused at the door and his eyes widened.

"No…" he breathed.

Stoick looked as if he was asleep, his shrunken face slack, his grizzled red hair neatly brushed off his face and his magnificent braided flaming red beard the only colour left to the man. His white lips were slightly parted, as if he was asleep and his powerful hands, now wasted, were gently resting on the crisp white sheets. His son slowly walked forward and clasped his hand: it was as limp as it had been since the shooting but now it was cold. Quietly, Hiccup raised it to his mouth, gently kissing the cold flesh.

"I'm sorry, Dad," he murmured. "I let you down. I wasn't here as I had promised, as I should have been-because I was focussed on my revenge, on the only thing left I could really do for you, for Cami and Sam. But it meant I missed the last moments with you."

_Though the man I knew and loved left me two years ago, when that bullet destroyed every hope of you ever wakening and reassuring your son you loved him. That you were proud of him. Though I know you're not proud now._

"And though I know you're now at peace, now with Mom in Valhalla-and with Cami and Sam-and I know it's selfish…but I wish you were still here," he said softly, closing his eyes. "Because you being gone means I am finally, truly alone. No family. Nothing. He's taken everything from me and all I did…" He took a ragged breath. "All I did was my duty, following the orders I was given by the President. And I'm…so…sorry…but I miss you…"

A sob choked his voice and tears slid down his face.

"I-I just wish I could be the son you wanted," he choked out. "I can never be the man you were. How-how can I possibly be that great, that selfless, that respected? I-I did my best to be the soldier, the warrior you wanted…but in the end, I caused your death." He dropped to his knees by the bed and pressed the cold hand to his face. "And I promise…I will avenge you, along with my wife and son. And then I'll join you all…because I can't see myself getting out of this one. Just wait for me, Dad. I'll-I'll s-see you soon."

And then Hiccup Haddock, the peerless assassin Night Fury, broke down and wept.


	9. Broken

**Nine: Broken**

Toothless received the call half an hour after Hiccup left-but he didn't need to tell the others what it was because the look on his face told the tale. Fishlegs gasped and the twins shared a look and removed their hats-or in Tuff's case, his stormtrooper helmet.

"He's gone-and Fury won't have made it in time," he said grimly. Astrid looked up.

"He?"

"Fury's father-his only living relative," Ruff said softly. "Everyone else was taken and they almost killed his father. He was in an irreversible coma for two years….but he's known this day was coming. We all have."

Looking round the three friends, Astrid got the first inkling of what kind of man Hiccup Haddock had been before whatever disaster befell him. They were loyal and genuinely cared about a man who had been ruthless, deceptive, sarcastic and lethal…but there had been flashes that hinted at wounds that were well-concealed but incredibly deep.

"Dagur did this, didn't he?" she said thoughtfully. Tuff nodded, ignoring Toothless's slight shake of the head.

"Yeah, he wanted to erase every last trace of the Haddock family because Fury killed…"

"And that's more than enough," Toothless cut in, glaring at the male twin. Fury had given them the talk not to disclose anything about himself to the agents…though he had already broken that rule with Fishlegs. But anything directly related to Fury's mission was taboo. "Give the man some privacy, will you?" Snotlout cracked open an eye.

"Why?" he growled. "He's a stone-cold killer…"

"He's a human being," Astrid told him sharply. "And he is doing what we couldn't do…"

"What?" Snotlout demanded, scowling and sitting up. "What has he actually done so far? All we've done is half-assedly attack Dagur's organisation and set me up as a crime Lord. He's destroyed half of Berserk and killed several men in cold blood in the street. And now he's working for Dagur to remove the competition-and we're helping him! So what has he actually done for us?"

"He's getting Dagur's trust so he can get close," Astrid told him sharply.

"And the job is still in progress," Fishlegs reminded him as he looked up from his screens. "You cannot judge results until the end. And we have a location for you." Astrid glared at Snotlout and then rose to her feet, checking the pistol concealed in her ankle holster.

"Where?" she asked.

"Word has it he is shacked up in Loki's Casino," he reported. "Surveillance cameras confirms they seem to have take most of it over." The female agent glanced at him and then across the room.

"Anyone fancy doing something useful?" she asked briskly. Tuff shook his head.

"I'm too depressed," he sighed and collapsed back onto the couch. "Sympathetic mourning…" Shaking her head, Astrid grabbed her jacket and headed to the door.

"It's dark and no one will pay us much mind," she said. "But I'll go…since Snotlout is on his beauty sleep and no one else is bothered." So with a scornful look, she stormed to the door and slammed out.

Toothless glared round the room, seeing Snotlout lie back, snoring, the twins looking depressed and Fishlegs appearing self-conscious but making no move to follow. Everyone seemed happy to allow the woman to head out on her own without back-up.

"What is wrong with you?" he asked, rising and grabbing his coat. "You know this is crucial: no Madguts, no Dagur. And right now-all Fury has left is finishing Dagur. So indulge yourselves. But remember-Fury wouldn't let her go alone. So-you wait here for Fury. I'll go make sure she doesn't get herself killed…"

As the door slammed, Snotlout looked up, staring at the twins, lying upside down on the couch and Fishlegs blushing with embarrassment.

"What's eating him?" he complained and then went back to sleep.

oOo

Toothless caught up with Astrid about a hundred yards down the road-but with some difficulty because she was marching along very fast, her eyes flashing with rage and frustration.

"Hey, hey-slow down!" he called and grabbed her arm-and she turned back to him, her eyes shining with so much emotion he instinctively dropped her arm. She took a deep breath and shook her head.

"Look-why are you here?" she asked. "To make sure I don't do anything to ruin Fury's suicide mission?" He grimaced.

"A little," he conceded. "But on a mission, he insists he's the only one taking risks…because we didn't sign up for his life."

"I'm an agent," she sighed, her voice gruff. "And I know exactly what it involves." He narrowed his eyes. "My entire family were in the service. My Dad and Uncle Finn both were agents-and three years ago, they were both killed on a mission, fighting corruption in the highest levels of the service and the government. And I recall the news when they were killed, the devastation…and though we always knew it was a possibility…it still turned my world over. So I can appreciate how devastated he will be."

Toothless rubbed the bridge of his nose and shook his head.

"You don't know the half of what that bastard's been through," he murmured. "And he lost his whole family-except his father and Gobber, who's a kind of Uncle. And now his father, who he was very close to, is gone…"

"Dagur killed them, didn't he?" she asked quietly, inspecting his face. He grimaced again.

"Yeah-if anyone deserves to die, he's first on the list," he admitted. She nodded.

"Okay-so how are you at Casino games?" she asked him as they turned back along the road. He gave a big grin.

"I'm a computer nerd-I play all sorts online," he admitted. "But I'm hoping that they'll all be paying attention to you and not noticing what I'm doing…" She smiled and unbuttoned the top three buttons on her white blouse. "And I think that will do it…"

"Eye front, Mr T," she winked and linked her arm with his. "I'll distract attention while you observe Madguts and see what we can offer Hiccup when he gets back." The jet-haired man sighed.

"It won't matter," he told her grimly, "because no matter what we tell him, he'll go in and finish it."

oOo

The door opened and three of the four occupants of the room looked up at the tall shape walking silently in. Fishlegs opened his mouth and made to speak but the look on Hiccup's face silenced him. Ruff swatted her brother's shoulder and the twins stood up, not saying a word but moving to each side of the man, wrapping their arms around him and hugging him tight between them.

"Thorston sandwich," Tuff murmured, feeling the hitman remain tense for a long moment. Ruff hugged harder.

"We're truly sorry," Ruff murmured and there was a long moment before their friend sighed and relaxed, allowing his head to drop and the twins to envelop him in a long hug. "You aren't alone," she added. He swallowed.

"Everyone dies alone," he said quietly and nodded in gratitude. "But until then, I have you."

"And us," Fishlegs piped up as the hitman raised his head and scanned the room. His brows dipped in a frown as he realised the gaps in the scenery. Snotlout scowled and pointedly lay back nonchalantly as Hiccup turned to the husky agent.

"Where's Astrid?" he asked pointedly. "And where's Toothless?"

oOo

Loki's Casino was loud, bright and busy, with the insistent dissonant whine of the slot machines, the jarring electronic ditties as victories occurred and chink of coin in machine as the addicts continued to fritter away their cash almost drowning out the shouts, laughter and music of the main gaming area. Waitresses clad as scantily as was legal twirled, depositing drinks and removing empty glasses, complementary snacks and reassuring smiles encouraging the patrons to continue spending.

The Murderous Syndicate had occupied half of the Poker Tables, driving away disgruntled regular punters and pawing the waitresses with abandon. They were loud and raucous and abused anyone coming close, drawing scowls from the owners-though not enough for them to brave the gangsters and their ire.

Playing at a Blackjack table to one side of the Casino, Toothless glanced over at the gangsters and sighed. Madguts the Mincer was a large, ugly man with a scar down the right side of his face and a thick moustache. His dark hair was shaved short and he clapped his right hand man on the shoulder.

"We're a little short on playmates," he growled. "How about her?" He indicated to the sultry shape of Astrid, leaning against the bar, toying with a margarita and trying to appear disinterested in what was happening. Her long blonde hair was loose over her shoulders, her blouse was open almost to her cleavage and she was chatting to the barman, asking how lonely she was…when two men from the Murderous group came up behind her. She looked up, a blonde brow arched and face sceptical.

"Can I help you boys?" she asked quizzically and the men-both bulky men with hard faces and covetous eyes nodded.

"Boss wants to have a word with you!" the one of the left said. His dark eyes glittered as she stretched.

"Really?" she asked coyly. "And who is your boss?" The man gestured to the leering shape of Madguts.

"He wants you to be his playmate," the second man leered. "And he ain't taking no for an answer!" She looked over at the gang boss and smiled.

"Maybe we can have a few drinks and I can see how well he plays," she said as she got up and glanced over at the barman. "Another one of these please-and charge it to the man over there," she added as she turned and sashayed towards the Murderous gang leader. He eyed her with appreciation and gave a broad grin.

"Hello, gorgeous," he growled as she took the seat next to him.

"Well, hello yourself!" she shot back. "What should I call you?"

"Master," he growled. "And we're gonna have some fun, honey." She slapped his hand as he reached for her.

"Fresh!" she scolded him firmly. "We're going to have a drink while I'm waiting for my boyfriend and you can tell me all about yourself…" He grabbed her arm and the two men stood behind her.

"You are going to sit here and be nice to me-or your boyfriend is going to have a very warm welcome when he turns up," Madguts snarled. The barman walked up and quietly rested her drink down by her. In a fury, he slapped it aside, the tinkling of the smashing glass and the sudden silence cutting through the chaos in the room. "So smile and play nice, girl, or I'll have him gutted in front of you!"

"Get off me!" she snapped, struggling as the men pressed down on her shoulders. Madguts grabbed her face in his hand and leaned forward, pressing a greedy kiss on her lips. Eyes slamming wide with indignation, she pulled back and spat in his face. He chuckled scornfully.

"Get her a double bourbon on the rocks," he commanded the barman, who was clearing up the mess. "And keep the whisky coming!" Casting a glare at the gang boss, she ground her teeth in anger.

"Aren't you concerned that the real boss of Berserk will come and crush you like an ant?" she spat but Madguts just laughed scornfully.

"If Dagur the Deranged wants to come in here and face me himself, I'll kill him where he stands!" he scoffed. "Now you should be more worried about your boyfriend-and yourself. Nice looking piece like you…well, we'll be having a lot of fun later on…once he's disposed of…"

Glancing an agonised look over at Toothless, Astrid grabbed her bourbon and downed it in one, grimacing. She still hated the taste of the beverage but it was a better option than looking into Madguts' scarred face as she tried anything to come up with a plan..

_Thor…how am I going to get out of this?_

oOo

Arriving at the Casino, with the twins and Snotlout grumbling at his back, Hiccup made a brusque gesture and they shut up, seeing the man narrow his emerald eyes, his gaze focussed on the busy space-and then he pulled his shades on and dragged a baseball cap over his striking auburn hair. Grabbing a beer bottle from the trash, he stumbled in, an arm around Ruff's shoulders as the others followed. Tuff was grinning and telling some ridiculous tale about his pet chicken while Snotlout had also pulled his shades on and was trying to pretend he wasn't the rival that Dagur had been assuming was muscling into his turf. But no one was paying attention to them amid the throng enjoying the slots and they sped forward until they had a clear view of the poker tables-and Astrid.

"Loki-is that Madguts the Mincer with his goons holding Astrid?" Ruff asked in surprise. Hiccup massaged the bridge of his nose in exasperation.

"Well, why shouldn't she be in the one place that I don't want her to be?" he muttered. "I mean, I can't get close to him because he will recognise me…" And then he smiled and looked across. "But he won't recognise T." Tuff stared in the direction he was and he gaped.

"Toothless?" he mouthed. "Oh Thor…" Hiccup drew back and vanished behind the Jackpot machine, then pulled out his phone and dialled Toothless's personal number. As he hoped, the man touched a hand briefly to his ear and the bluetooth device sitting there.

" _Yeah?_ "

"Taco delivery man. How do you like your chilli?" Hiccup asked him.

" _Hot hot hot_ ," the handler said with a sigh. " _Rather more old friends here than anticipated and everyone has been hitting the tequila! Any suggestions?_ "

"Tell him that Dag and his entire organisation are on their way," he said. "Tell him I sent the warning. That should get his attention. I'l handle the rest…"

" _Understood. Blackjack!_ " Smiling, the hitman ended the call and tucked his phone away.

"And what will that do?" Snotlout growled as Hiccup watched his friend collect his winnings and casually get up, leaving the table. He walked confidently up towards Madguts but stopped as the heavies blocked his path. And then he smiled.

"I have a message for you, Murderous. From Night Fury," Toothless said with no hint of apprehension. "The 'other boss' in town is a fake but Dagur believes he is real-and he is you. His entire organisation and all his troops are heading here to bury you. Fury suggests that you exercise the better part of valour unless you want a decent Berserk Burial…" Astrid's eyes widened as they scheme was exposed just like that. She glared at Toothless, who totally ignored her, for he was watching the Murderous Syndicate men grabbing for their guns and muttering like they were ready for a firefight.

"I think I'll take my chances," Madguts growled and there was a pause before Toothless shrugged.

"Your choice-but Fury asked me to deliver the warning. I think he enjoys working for you and wanted you to be alive to work for again…" he shrugged. "Good luck…" He turned away and walked away to cash in his chips. There was a pause as the gang boss frowned…and then turned to his men.

"Rikkard, Finn, Jens-you're with me. The rest of you-stay here and watch out for the Berserkers," he ordered. "Tomas, Knut-take the blonde to our temporary HQ. I'll catch up later so we can have our fun." Two huge men hauled Astrid up and dragged her out towards the garage as Madguts headed in the opposite direction. Cursing under his breath, Hiccup ducked back and looked at his companions.

"Ruff-follow Madguts and make sure he leaves the building," he ordered. "You two-watch the men here. Play a few slots-and warn me if they move."

"Where are you going?" Snotlout snapped, his tone irritated. He resented taking orders from the hitman, even though playing a gang boss had been fun.

"To get Astrid," the hitman said in a toneless voice.

"Hey-I should go rescue her," Snotlout said arrogantly. "She'll be disappointed if it's not me…" But the hitman shook his head, recalling her antipathy to the stocky and self-absorbed agent.

"Don't worry-I'll tell her it was all you," he said sarcastically-but Snotlout's face lit with a shocked smile.

"You-you'd do that for me?" he asked in a touched voice as Hiccup sighed heavily.

"No-of course not," he snapped and drew his pistol, heading for the garage. Keeping to the shadows and listening hard, he found his way with little trouble and ducked down as he heard the sounds of cursing and struggling. Astrid was wrestling furiously against the two men who had taken her away and as he watched, she got a good kick that doubled one of the men up. Almost wincing in sympathy, Hiccup dodged behind a Corvette and thumbed off the safety, inclining his head to get his range.

"Get off me!" she grunted, earning herself a slap. "Munge bucket son of a half troll! I'll…"

"What?' one of the men growled. "Do nothing! Until the Boss decides he's fed up of you-and then we get our share…"

"Share this!" Astrid hissed, pivoting on the grasp and kicking him in the face. He staggered back and in that moment, Hiccup emerged, head down so the peak of his cap shielded his eyes from the harsh fluorescent lights in the garage. Astrid felt the man holding her tense as they all immediately saw him and her eyes shot him the smallest of pleas-but all she saw was her reflection in his shades and she hated herself for the appeal…because there was no sign he had even registered it. The men squared up, her captor holding her hard against his chest as a shield.

"Nothing to see here," the man Astrid had kicked growled, his nose streaming blood. "Just got a present for our Boss." Ignoring his words, Hiccup continue to advance, his eyes locked on the man holding Astrid.

"Let. Her. Go," he growled as the thug holding her frowned.

"You're Night Fury," he realised. "So the assassination threat…was a set-up…"

"And you had to figure that out," the hitman sighed, his pistol snapping up and firing at the same time. The report of two shots echoed round the garage as both men fell, not even having moved. There was a long moment as Astrid stared at him, eyes wide and body motionless-and then she jumped away from the body of the man who had been holding her, turning to glare at the corpse. There was a bullet hole in his forehead.

"You almost hit me!" she snapped, still unnerved from feeling the brush of air from the bullet whiffle past her ear.

"Almost is actually a miss," he pointed out sarcastically. "Thanks for rescuing me, Fury. I was really worried there…"

"I was really worried when you fired at me!" she persisted.

"Thor, I should have let Snotlout come after all," he retorted and she gave a shuddering sigh.

"Ugh. And no," she managed and then walked forward the inspect the tall shape. "Are you okay?" Her voice was softer, more gentle and he inclined his head.

"I'm alive," he told her gruffly, rejecting the sympathy. "Madguts is away…but he'll want to mark his territory with a really class funeral for his men…and that will be our way in…" She stared at him, unnerved. The man had lost his father and all he could do was think of the mission.

"You don't have to…" she tried but he swung his head round to look at her.

"Astrid-it's literally the only thing I have left," he reminded her. "And did you forget? I'm facing a couple of centuries in prison unless I complete the Contract…or if you guess my Horrendous middle name…" She smiled and fell into step alongside him.

"Hmm…I hadn't forgotten the name thing," she murmured as they exited the garage. "Let me see…Horus? Hubert? Halirrhothius?"

"No, no and what the Thor?" Hiccup replied, a tiny smile lifting his lips. "Where on Midgard did you get that?"

"The World List of Worst Boy's Names," she revealed. "W W W absolutelycrapnames dot com." He gave the smallest chuckle.

"They actually have one of those sites?" he asked.

"Check with Toothless," she advised him. "I'm a woman on a mission…"

"And so am I…well, a man on a mission," he amended and shook his head. There was something about working with Astrid that eroded his facade, a familiarity-or maybe a nostalgia-that wormed through his defences and he knew he had to be more careful.

"Hamund? Heardind? Hid?"

"Are these real names or are you just making them up?" he asked her as they vanished into the stairwell.

"Better believe it, Fury," she told him smugly. "Even though I guess your name can't be as bad as some of those."

"Don't bet on it," he corrected her. "I mean, you know my first name…so the bar's set pretty high…or is that low...?" She looked up into his handsome face, still anonymous behind the shades and under the cap and she sighed.

"By the way-thank you for saving my life," she murmured and he paused and looked at her. His reply was softer and there was a definite smile as he continued walking.

"You're welcome," he said.


	10. Grave Mistakes

**Ten: Grave Mistakes**

The funeral for the two Murderous gang members that Hiccup had killed was two days later in the main cemetery for Berserk. As expected, Madguts had been determined to flaunt his supposed new status as the man in charge of Berserk by holding a magnificent ceremony for his men. He had brought in more men from his main base and the funeral directors had been instructed to provide large ebony caskets with gold accoutrements, honouring his fallen men. Privately, he was planning his revenge on Dagur, who he blamed for the deaths but publicly, he was determined to rub the Berserker's nose in it at the oratory.

Hiccup had returned to the Berserker Compound and explained his plans to Heather and through her, Dagur, though he railed at the fact they hadn't trusted him enough to allow him to speak to Dagur in person. In fact, he was being treated as a prisoner almost and he wondered vaguely if his cover had been blown…but this was his only chance to get close to Dagur and if there was even the slightest chance, he had to take it…especially since he had made his promise while holding his father's cold hand.

He was shocked when Heather demanded he have dinner with her and he had shyly agreed, playing the persona he had adopted with skill. During the meal, he had been attentive, witty and had flattered her, stroking her ego but maintaining just enough distance so that she was frustrated by his response to her obvious overtones. He had to make sure she remained on his side because she was his key to the whole puzzle-so when she came on to him and kissed her, he had fought a brief battle-and then returned the kiss in spades, one hand in her raven hair, the other gently cupping her breast as their tongues battled. Leaving her breathless and wanting more had achieved the desired result and Dagur's men backed off…a little.

But early on the morning of the burial, 'Olaf's Express Funerals' had received an early morning visit from six figures who had broken in and kidnapped all the staff, taking their black garments-not all of which had fitted especially well-and making some small but very critical adjustments to one of the caskets. Fortunately, both were already loaded onto the hearses so the pall-bearers would only have one short trip to make with each man. And then Hiccup had looked at his team.

It was obvious the twins would be a pair but it was just as obvious that Fishlegs and Snotlout couldn't be the second pair of pall bearers-for their significant differences in height made that impossible. The answer was Toothless, who had reluctantly come out into the field to partner the husky agent as a pall bearer while Snotlout had been assigned the job of walking bare-headed ahead of the coffin, bearing his top hat as a mark of respect. He had grumbled at the role until he realised he was exempted any heavy lifting-at which point he gratefully accepted the job and went and sat in the hearse and took a nap. Shaking his head, Hiccup looked over at Fishlegs.

"You know he'll mess this up, right?" he commented and the husky agent shrugged.

"Won't be the first time," he admitted. Despite his reservations and dislike of field work, the agent was getting much more opportunity to take part in the mission and though it was not his preferred area, he had to admit, it did make him feel a much more important part of the team than just sitting behind his computer…though there were times when he would rather be safely riding his laptop. At a funeral where everyone would be heavily armed was probably one of those moments. "Are you sure you'll be okay?" The auburn-haired hitman gave a wry smile that came nowhere near his eyes.

"Been in tight places before," he admitted. "Tends to come with the territory when you're setting up surveillance for a hit. I'll be fine." Toothless and the twins cast him a worried look: he had largely shut down since his father's death, keeping to himself and restricting conversation to terse exchanges, though he was professional where the mission was concerned. None of them thought he was fine and what he was proposing had been opposed by all of them-but Hiccup had ignored their concerns.

"You sure you can get everything you need in there?" Fishlegs asked as the hitman professionally checked his weapons, the sharp snap of firing bolts and clunk of magazines sounding as he made his final checks.

"I'm good," Hiccup insisted, his eyes fixed on his guns.

" _Hope you're ready to go,_ " Astrid said over the com from the car park, where she was waiting. " _Olaf and the main car of mourners just pulled up. Is it Herodotus?_ " Hiccup shook his head and headed into the first hearse.

"I'm not even dignifying that one. And you two-just remember-no jokes or puns or anything stupid," he warned the twins. "Very serious!" They headed into the front of the vehicle and both looked offended.

"Thor, does he doubt our Gods-given talent for the funereal arts?" Tuff grumbled.

"We can be serious when required," Ruff added in a hurt voice.

"And that time is now," Toothless added from the other hearse, where he was squashed in with Fishlegs and Snotlout. The doors opened and a small man with bright brown eyes and spiky hair, smoothed down haphazardly under his brushed black top hat, walked in. He peered at the men in the suits.

"You're not my normal crew," he protested. His amiable face was confused.

"Outbreak of food poisoning," Toothless told him. "Everyone else is pretty much camped in the outhouse. I mean, they guessed you didn't want your pall bearers all dropping the deceased and running for the bathroom every five minutes so they drafted us in. We're from Mulch's Organic Funerals from Berk…"

"I don't know that provider," Olaf said suspiciously.

"We're niche," Tuff piped up. "We usually use wicker caskets and biodegradable materials. Our specialities are 'natural' burials for atheists and humanists and Zoroastrian ceremonies…" Olaf stared at him.

"And how many Zoroastrians live in Berk?" he asked, interested despite himself.

"Um…none…but we're an equal opportunities provider," Ruff added. "So if any wanted to come to die in Berk, we're ready!" Shaking his head, Olaf sighed.

"Okay-just do as I tell you and don't drop anyone!" he hissed before turning back to his limousine and driving slowly away to collect the mourners, with the two hearses in convoy. Quietly, at the back, Astrid followed in a hire car, keeping her eyes open for surveillance or interception…but nothing was forthcoming and they collected Madguts and his entourage as well as the widowed girlfriends of the men and headed for Berserk Cemetery.

The Cemetery was large and well-appointed, immaculately manicured lawns cut by arrow-straight white gravel paths with large willows and yews interspersed in between. Black-painted railings surrounded the entire site and several mausolea were dotted close to the small temple sited at the near end of the site. As they drove slowly past, Astrid pulled in by one and got out, pretending to be paying her respects while pulling out high-power binoculars and following the cortege to the two open graves, dug close to the path by a huge manicured yew. A sea of chairs were placed round the grave, many already occupied by members of the Murderous Syndicate. As Astrid looked, she saw a flash of light off another pair of binoculars and she muttered a curse.

But the funeral cars had already pulled up and as Madguts, dressed in a long black coat slung from his shoulders over a black suit, black shirt and tie and black boots, his cruel eyes concealed by shades, made his way to his seat, the hearses pulled up and the 'pall bearers' began to manhandle the coffins into their places. One was considerably heavier than the other and the men staggered and could barely manage to get it into place, before standing before the coffins, whipping off their hats and bowing their heads for a long moment. Then they stepped away and retreated to the cars, all getting into the nearest one and quietly starting the engine.

The sun was fully out, casting deep shadows under the trees but Astrid was sure of what she had seen-and where. Running swiftly, she circled round the huge space, wishing it wasn't such a hot day and that she had worn more sensible shoes for running than her boots. But every eye was on the funeral service as the Priest of Odin stood forward and began a generic blessing and entreaty for forgiveness/mercy/happiness in the afterlife. The widowed girlfriends were weeping noisily and Madguts looked bored but for a gang Boss, image was everything. So he stared at the caskets, tuning out the service and planning his next manoeuvres to take over Berserk.

The man under the tree was almost invisible but Astrid controlled her breathing and paused, then dived and rolled, shooting the man with three stunner darts. He slapped the points of impact and stared at the tiny dots of blood from the darts before folding, landing behind the huge willow and concealed in a pall of shadow. Astrid panted up, pink and sweaty and grabbed him by the collar, making sure she hauled him well out of sight and checked his pulse. After confirming he was alive but deeply unconscious, she patted him down, removing his shades to check his face and photographing it, using the Bureau app to put him through facial recognition software while she checked his pockets. He had a standard issue Glock and a wallet that named him 'Bjorn Larson', a name she knew was usually used as commonly as 'John Smith' elsewhere. His credit cards were inspected and then she found the card.

**DRAGON EXPORTS.**

She blinked and frowned, staring closer at his face. Dragon Exports was a company that didn't exist, a cover for people who also technically didn't exist to use when travelling all over the world in pursuit of their enemies. Her phone beeped and she peered at the results, her breathing accelerating as she saw the words flashing on the screen.

**CLASSIFIED IDENTITY.**

Since she was using Archipelago Intelligence systems, there was only one group of people who could cause that message to flash up to an AIS or ABI agent. She looked across at the funeral which was drawing to a close.

"Why are the Secret Service interested in two dead Murderous thugs?" she murmured.

The widowed girlfriends stood and rested roses on the caskets of their dearly departed as the Priest droned on about being reunited in Valhalla and finally, Madguts walked forward, casting a handful of dirt on each casket. He rested a meaty paw on each casket lid, his eyes blazing with anger.

"These men gave their lives in my service," he announced. "They were loyal, brave and and dedicated. They were family men and all they were asked to do was to follow my orders. MINE! As the new boss of Berserk, they should have been safe! But that damned coward, Dagur, sent an assassin and shot them down in cold blood."

 _Not what I remembered,_ the listening Fury though. _They were kidnaping Astrid to your base so you could 'play' with her..._

"So I say-I will not tolerate it! Once these men have their decent burial, we will declare war on Oswaldson! They will be avenged and we will bury every man of Dagur's here! Every Berserker will be killed and I will save Dagur for last!" He bowed his head. "Don't worry, boys-I'll find out who did you and make him pay," he promised.

"And so let us commit their bodies to the embracing earth…" the Priest announced as the lid of one of the caskets slammed open and Hiccup jerked upright, his guns trained on the Gang Boss.

"Night Fury!" Madguts gasped.

"Goodbye," Hiccup muttered as he pulled the trigger, the man falling backwards with the impact of three bullets in the chest. Before anyone could react, the submachine gun in his other hand sprayed bullets at Madguts' men, taking care to miss the grieving girlfriends and the Priest. There were screams and people diving for cover-or trying to find somewhere safe to enable them to pull their own guns. Anyone sticking his head up found it shot at as Hiccup scrambled from the casket and after one long burst that emptied the magazine, he tossed the submachine gun and sprinted towards the nearest hearse, diving in through the open door.

"GO!" Toothless snapped as Tuff floored the gas pedal, slewing the hearse away and side-swiping the funeral car and the other hearse. There was a yell from Olaf, who wasn't sure whether to be outraged at the damage to his vehicles or delighted at the prospects of so much new business. As Astrid watched, a black car with Hysteria plates pulled out from behind a mausoleum and sped after the hearse, the occupants invisible through the heavily-tinted glass.

"You got trouble," she murmured through the com.

" _No shit!_ " Hiccup snapped back as the pursuers fired at them. " _See you back at our hotel. We'll lose these guys…"_

"Maybe not," she said urgently. "They're Secret Service…"

" _Sorry…you're breaking up…_ "

"Guys-they're Secret Service!" she snapped.

"…"

"Shit!" Tying the downed man firmly, she sprinted back to her car, ignoring the chaotic funeral and the first wailing sirens of ambulances approaching as she found her car and headed out after her friends. "Fishlegs, Snot…anyone! Can you hear me?"

"…"

Dodging the first ambulances, she roared through the cemetery and skidded out onto the street, seeing a debris trail from where Tuff had hit everything with the hearse. Growling that just for once, she would love a plan to work as intended, she sped after them.

oOo

Bouncing in the back of the runaway hearse, Hiccup was holding on for grim death. He had long since promised that he would never allow the male twin to drive him again but there was no option to stop and change driver to someone who actually believed roads were the best place for a motor vehicle. So far, they had bounced across a traffic island, up a small alley and across the pavement and through a donut stall. He was still unsure how both the twins had managed to snag donuts but they were munching them loudly and complaining they weren't the best quality. That and the oil smeared over the windshield seemed to be the main problem-until the car behind them started firing.

He had honestly not realised how difficult it would be when he volunteered to clamber into the casket and wait, had not appreciated the memories the cramped dark would evoke-especially since he was jammed again the body of one of the men he had killed. But as soon as the lid had closed, he had suddenly experienced the most intense flashback he could imagine, seeing the images he fought to suppress crawl across his eyeballs.

_"_ _You made a big mistake." The words were flat, cold and calculated as Dagur circled him. They were out in the forest, the grey skies and damp making the smell of pine and freshly dug earth stronger. On his knees, his body hurting from the wounds he had earned in trying to fight them off, to protect his little family, Hiccup looked up into the soulless pallid green eyes, the man's scrappy red beard moving as he taunted his prisoner. "You killed my father! And that means…blood feud!"_

_Breathing heavily, his head spinning and despair enveloping him because he couldn't see any way out, surrounded as he was by enemies, tied and with his wife and young son by him, he shook his head._

_"_ _I was just a soldier, following orders to kill a criminal who resisted all attempts to bring him to justice," he said quietly._

_"_ _You pulled the trigger. You took his life. So I take yours…every precious part of it…" There was an uneven edge to Dagur's voice, a sick triumph. "I've already disposed of your parents, Haddock. I am a very rich man. You shot my father in the head-so I did the same to yours…"_

_"_ _No…" Hiccup moaned, his eyes flicking over to the battered shape of Cami, her long blonde hair loose over her naked shoulders, the crying of their terrified son a dissonant noise in the muffled quiet. "Please…they're innocents! She works with abused woman and my son…he's completely innocent. He's just a baby! Gods…do what you want to me. I did the deed-but they're innocent! Please!"_

_Dagur stared at him, his lip curl in a sneer._

_"_ _And when I kill them, no one will ever want to come after me and mine," the Berserker said cruelly. "They will know that I annihilated you and everyone you loved or were related to. I wiped your family off the face of Midgard." And he lifted his gun._

_"_ _Please…don't hurt them…I beg you…" Hiccup couldn't help the words tumbling from his mouth, utter desperation unlocking his resolution to remain silent. "Please…_

_The report of a shot echoed around the trees and the crying stopped._

_"_ _SAM!" Hiccup felt as if his heart had been ripped from his chest, seeing the small shape slumped, eyes closed and strawberry blond hair tousled as if in sleep. But the red stain seeping into his sleep-suit was unmissable and he knew that he would never again hear the little voice, saying 'Dada'. Cami was weeping, her beautiful face streaked with tears as their son was roughly pitched into the pit and Dagur walked behind her. She turned her watery eyes on him, her face filled with a sudden calm._

_"_ _It's okay, lover," she said softly. "It's not your fault. I love you."_

_The sound of the shot was mingled with her soft cry as she collapsed forward into the pit and his incoherent howl of grief was ripped from his throat._

_"_ _CAMI!"_

_He was fighting, struggling against the men holding him, his eyes blurred with tears as he stared down at the body of his wife. Then he raised his emerald eyes to peer back at Dagur._

_"_ _I'm going to kill you," he promised. "Somehow…I will kill you…"_

_Dagur laughed._

_"_ _Not if I kill you first," he said and pulled the trigger._

_Agony exploded in Hiccup's back and he felt the world start to fade around him. Sounds grew echoey as he pitched into the grave and he was still conscious as they started to shovel the heavy, muddy earth onto his body. Using the last of his strength, he reached out to touch her hand, feeling her skin already cooling._

_I'm sorry, my love, was his last though before everything went black._

Enclosed in the casket had brought back the memory of waking in a shallow grave, not dead but close to it, buried with the corpses of his family. Of clawing his way out and being found by his friends. Of the painful recovery and realisation that his mother had died but his father was in a coma…until he had died a couple of days earlier. And in the fetid dark with the corpse of a man he had killed, he fixated his memory of Cami and Sam and clung to them as the nightmarish vision played over and over…until he had heard the words and had swung into action. There was no guilt in killing Madguts, a man who had clawed his way to the top over the corpses of innocent and guilty men, who saw human life as a simple commodity and who had wanted to kidnap and rape Astrid just for amusement.

But now they were being pursued by professionals with only the male twin to keep them safe. And they had weaved their way to the town limits, dodging bullets and impacts from the car ramming them but Hiccup had reloaded his pistol and was crawling his unsteady way to the nearest window. He snapped off a few shots, one of which cracked the windshield and saw the car swerve and drop back.

"Well done!" Fishlegs enthused, hanging on for dear life but Hiccup's eyes widened as they swerved.

"Don't be so sure," he said urgently as a long cylinder appeared through the window. "Rocket launcher!"

"You are kidding me!" Snotlout protested, looking out. "ARGH! Drive faster!" The twins stared ahead.

"That could be a problem…" Ruff noted, seeing the huge tractor bouncing slowly along, blocking the whole narrow lane. Tuff weaved but there was no way past, with high hedges on each side. Hiccup looked round-and then back at the pursuing car.

"Okay…remain straight until I tell you," he ordered.

"Who put you in charge?" Snotlout snarked.

"Astrid did!" Fishlegs retorted.

"Hang on!" Toothless snapped, closing his eyes. As a handler, he preferred to be with his computer and had no desire to go into the field-especially not if Tuff was anywhere near the wheel.

"Go left…NOW! Hiccup yelled as the man fired the rocket launcher. The hearse slewed sideways and the missile shot past them. Everyone watched as it slammed straight into the tractor, blasting the vehicle apart and sending the huge wheels spiralling away. Screaming curses, Tuff barrelled the hearse through the wreckage-and as they roared forward, Hiccup leaned out of the window and shot the man with the rocket launcher-then pounded four bullets into the same spot on the windshield, shattering it and allowing him the opportunity to shoot the driver. The car swerved and then hit the verge, shooting up into the air and rolling, before slamming down and landing on its roof and bursting into flame.

"Nice shot!" Fishlegs enthused, clapping Hiccup so hard on the back that he almost fell out of the window. Mumbling apologies, the husky agent hauled him back into the car. Exhausted, Hiccup closed his eyes.

"Get us out of here, Tuff," he said. "I need to speak to Heather and collect my prize-a face to face interview with Dagur."

_And finally-my chance to avenge you both…_

oOo

Heather had been effusive when he had called, smug that her choice of champion had fulfilled his mission and she promised that when he returned to the compound, her brother would be waiting. Silently, he had nodded and then forced himself to smile and had graciously accepted the offer, persuading the group-with Snotlout protesting all the way-to nurse the limping hearse back to the city and drop him off close to the compound. Carefully, he left his weapons in the hearse, knowing that Dagur's guards wouldn't allow him to bring a weapon into the compound again and walked up through the fortifications, past the guards to the front door.

The huge guard-Alvin-let him in with a sneer, the man's full beard moving as he escorted the man into the atrium and through towards the back of the residence. Every sense on edge, he swept his emerald gaze over the men walking at his side-until he was met by Heather, who flung herself towards him and hugged him.

"I knew you could do it," she said with satisfaction. "I know my brother believed you couldn't deal with his intruder problem…but it sounds like you have eliminated it completely." Forcing a satisfied smile on his face, he looked into her eyes.

"I try not to disappoint," he told her as she winked.

"And maybe we can have dinner afterwards," she asked him playfully and he nodded.

"I am a little peckish," he admitted with a wry smile. "That would be nice…"

_Though I will be dead once we've faced off…_

But he didn't say anything else and they headed past guards through the high, marble-floored hall to the elaborate double doors at the back. Heather glanced back at him and then at Alvin.

"Ready?" she asked and he nodded. And then the doors opened…


	11. A Change of Plans

**Eleven: A change of plans**

Hiccup advanced into the room, seeing what was essentially a ballroom with inlaid marble floor, smooth pink marble columns at the corners rising to the fresco'd roof. At the far end, there was a Regency desk with gold legs and claw feet, gold marble top and a deep red velvet throne facing away from them. The far wall had a sixty inch television screen boldly fixed amid the impressive 18th and 19th century portraits, behind the desk. And there was clearly someone sitting in the far chair.

"He's here," Heather announced. "Just as you asked."

"And the Meatheads?" The voice was a low growl, thick with menace. Concentrating on emptying his mind of everything but the mission, Hiccup faced the back of the chair calmly.

"They were Murderous," Hiccup said. "Madguts the Mincer and his crew. Disposed of now. As you asked."

"Good." The voice was guarded. "Alvin?" The big man had followed them in, his face locked in a scowl, his meaty fists clenched.

"All checks out," he reported. "You were correct, sir."

"Then act as I ordered," the voice said as Hiccup glanced around, seeing which guard's gun he would steal…and realising they were all staring at him, weapons in their hands and levelled at his chest.

"Er…Heather…I think there may be a problem," he said in a wary voice as Alvin unholstered his gun.

"Only for you," he said gruffly. "You ain't a Berserker, you ain't one of our men and we don't trust you!" But before Hiccup could move an inch, he felt the bite of a taser and a current surged through him. His hands clenched and his entire body arched…and then he slumped to the floor. Heather folded her arms.

"Okay," she growled. "You wanna explain what's going on now? And why my bodyguard has been tasered when he did everything you asked?" She peered at the chair as a bulky man with dark hair and dark eyes-who was definitely not her brother-emerged.

"There are a few things you need to know about your friend…" he said.

oOo

"What the Helheim happened to the coms?" Astrid snarled once they all got back to the miserable-and now crowded-room. Toothless frowned, then grabbed her com and leaned over it, fiddling away.

"Nothing wrong with them," was his verdict. "They've been jammed." There was a pause.

"Jammed?" Fishlegs echoed, eyes widening. "Who would jam us?"

"How about the Secret Service?" Astrid asked them sharply and every eye turned to her "There was someone watching the funeral-he had eyes and a gun on you all. Fortunately I was doing the same thing-but I was better than he was. I stunned and hogtied him-and he was definitely ASS. They were the guys who took off after you!"

"Those guys were ASS?" Snotlout commented and then shrugged. "What pussies!"

"Snot-they shot a rocket at us!" Fishlegs told him irritably as he lay back on the bed.

"And blew up a tractor!" Tuff reminded them. "That was awesome!" Sharing a look with Astrid, Toothless frowned.

"The Secret Service is under the direct control of the President and is dedicated to his protection," he mumbled. "So why were they watching the funeral of two Murderous gangsters? And why did they attack you guys?"

"We did shoot up a funeral," Snotlout reminded him proudly.

"What _we_?" Ruff asked pointedly. "You were dozing in the hearse! Fury took them out and we were the getaway car…hearse…"

"Sis-can we swap the camper for a hearse? Please?" Tuff whined and she banged her head against the wall.

"NO! There would be nowhere to sleep and store the guns!"

"It doesn't make sense," Astrid murmured, leaning close to Toothless and peering at his computer screens as he vainly attempted to hack the ASS system. "Why would they go after people who have shot up the Murderous Syndicate? They don't get involved in gangs-that's far too low level for them…"

"Unless someone knew that there would be a hit at the funeral and was after the hitman…" Toothless breathed. He looked up.

"Dagur," Astrid muttered. "He knew. And he had a good idea exactly when."

"We need to warn Fury!" Toothless muttered and activated his com. "Night-this is Terror. Can you respond?"

"…"

"Night-this is Terror. If you cannot respond, at least give me a sign…"

"…"

"Fury…give me some clue you're alive…"

"…"

Astrid rested hand on his shoulder, feeling the tension.

"If they knew, they will have taken him straight away on arriving at the compound," she said quietly. "He will have been captured before you ever got back here." Fishlegs paused…and then opened his laptop, entering code after code…and then a grid of the city appeared, homing in on the Berserker Compound. A red dot appeared in an upper floor.

"He's alive-on the third level, northeast corner," he reported. "He's motionless and the device records a powerful electric current shortly after he reached the compound." He shook his head. "It doesn't look good."

"Wait-you put a tracker in him?" Toothless asked in outrage, his green eyes glittering. "But if you can track him, so can the others…" But Fishlegs shook his head.

"We never logged it in," he admitted. "We recorded that Snotlout dropped it down the can-which everyone believed…"

"Hey!"

"No one knows except Fish and I-and he's the only one with the access codes," Astrid reassured him. There was a pause as everyone digested the words-and three of the four other people realised the problem she had raised.

"Any other surprises I should know about?" Toothless asked pointedly, watching the woman. He knew she had the deal with Hiccup and was determined to do everything he could to enable his friend to complete the Contract and get away. And behind the back of her superiors…or because she couldn't trust them? But now Fury was taken and presumably on his own…because the hitman knew the score. He was expendable and in this kind of mission, expendable assets got burned. So Astrid's next words shocked him.

"Can you find me a way in there?" she asked. "I need two volunteers to go in with me and rescue Fury."

There was silence.

"Why?" Toothless asked.

"I could ask the same thing," Snotlout snarked. "I mean, he hasn't got anywhere near completing the mission and now it looks like he's blown his cover." The blonde agent frowned.

"You know, I really don't think he has," she murmured. "He's been very careful and planned every eventuality meticulously. Why were ASS here? Something smells rotten." Then she looked over at the twins. "And Hiccup is one of my team. So if he's in danger, we go and get him out."

"WHAT?" Snotlout stared at her in disgust and rolled to his feet, scowling in disapproval. Tuff nodded.

"Normally, he doesn't need help…but he never asks…even when he's in mortal danger," he admitted.

"Someone said the magic words," Ruff grinned. "I'm in."

"I'm out-just in case anyone is in any doubt!" Snotlout said firmly.

"No one was," Fishlegs retorted. Finally, Toothless nodded.

"So what do you want?" he asked. She smiled.

"Mr Wizard-can you find me a way into the Oswaldson Residence?"

oOo

Hiccup opened his eyes, all senses on alert as he tried to assess his surroundings. All he saw were plain cream walls and roof. No windows and a blank wooden door. He blinked and groaned inwardly.

What had gone wrong? He had maintained his cover, done everything asked of him and there had been no clue from his team that he was at all associated with the 'Meatheads'. But the man he had met had not been Dagur and the whole meeting…was a trap. And unarmed, he had been ambushed and taken. And worse, he had let them.

When all was said and done, he had been trained as an expert marksman and sniper with advanced combat training and lots of experience-but he wasn't an undercover agent and he had a very nasty suspicion that he was up to his neck in a world of trouble. He wasn't armed and had nothing on him that he could use to get out of this mess. And then he looked down at his own situation.

He seemed to be in what looked unpleasantly like a dentist's chair, his arms strapped down with leather belts and his ankles restrained as well. He was tilted back slightly and the roof overhead was grimy and stained. To one side was a machine that looked squat and unfamiliar, with resistor dials and a set of leads coiled at one side. His head snapped from side to side and checked the rest of the room was empty save a plain wooden chair. And he couldn't tell if he was even still in the Oswaldson residence or had been moved to another location for disposal. Wrestling slightly, he realised his bonds were secure so he lay back and tried to work out what next. Either they knew who he was…or they didn't trust him and had removed him from their stronghold. And he guessed if Dagur came through the door and recognised him, he was dead. And he _really_ hoped that Toothless or at least Astrid would be realising that he was in trouble…

After spending a fruitless five minutes tugging and twisting at the straps and only succeeding in lacerating his own skin, he had rested back and closed his eyes, not sleeping but resting in preparation for whatever came next. Somehow, he guessed he would need all his strength for whatever they had planned for him.

He didn't have to wait long as the locks clunked in the door before it swung open to admit a mean-faced man with pointed nose, dark hair and brown eyes…followed by the poised shape of Heather. The sister of Dagur the Deranged walked in and stared at him as her companion locked the door and set the pail of water he was carrying by the machine. But though he looked hopefully at her, there was no warmth or even recognition in her face. Abruptly, she slapped him, green eyes blazing.

"You really had me fooled," she spat. "All that yak dung-and it was a lie. You're no better than my brother…or any of the others. You're a spy, aren't you?" He stared up into her green eyes and forced himself to remain impassive.

"Caught me out," he said lightly. "Archipelago Home and Garden. I'm a lifestyle reporter, looking at how the rich and corrupt live. Care to comment?" She slapped him again.

"I don't have a sense of humour, Hanson…if it is your real name?" she sneered. He gave an irritating lopsided smirk.

"Guess," he grinned.

"Who are you working for?" she demanded.

"Night Terror publishing, a division of Archipelago News Corp," he said smartly.

"Are you working for one of the other gangs?"

"Define gang."

"Who is your contact?"

"Smidvarg. He's my pet Highland Terrier."

"Do you have a pet Highland Terrier?"

"Nope."

"Do you have infiltrators in our base?"

"Is this a base? I thought it was a well-appointed Fin de Siecle Townhouse…"

"Where are your contacts? Who do you report to?"

"Lord Odin and the Norns, ultimately. I mean, it's a question of advanced metaphysics…"

Heather leaned over his half-reclined shape and stared into his mocking emerald eyes. "You know, I am going to make you talk," she said. "I want to know everything about you, Hanson Halvardson…or whatever your name is…"

"I think we've established that it probably isn't that," he said tonelessly.

"And yet you think you can use me to get to my family…" she hissed. "You unconscionable bastard! Using an innocent to…"

"Maybe you should cut the crap as well, Heather Oswalddottir!" he snapped. "Your law practice doesn't pay anywhere near enough to afford your multi-million dollar apartment or your offices. Your assets cannot be explained by your work. And you cover up and protect your brother's quasi-legitimate facade to keep the Feds and the IRS off his business interests. You're not an innocent. Innocents are women and children whose lives are ruined by Dagur's business. Innocents are people whose homes are ruined or who are killed as bystanders. Innocents are women and children murdered so your brother can have a reputation. Innocent are woman kidnapped, raped and used as whores so your brother can spoil you with more expensive gifts. So no-you aren't innocent-by any definition. You're complicit, you're a crook and you're a hypocrite."

Then she half inclined her head to look at her companion, who had stood quietly, surreptitiously switching on the machine.

"And you're a dead man…eventually," she sneered. "When it was explained to me, it all became clear…"

"I congratulate you on your insight," he snarked. "Pity it's worthless."

"You know, I wonder how long you can carry on with your smart mouth and this ridiculous pretence…"

"You're welcome to try away…" he invited her with a steely tone. Heather smiled and gestured to her companion, who had finished setting up the machine.

"Well, my man Savage will." Hiccup glanced over to the man at her triumphant tone.

"I look forward to working with you," he offered brightly.

"Don't!" Heather snapped, unbuttoning his shirt and ripping it wide open. She ripped the arms open to the elbow as well before she nodded to her companion and then smiled at Hiccup pityingly. "You know, we could have had some fun," she reminded him, a finger tracing from his throat slowly down his lean and lightly muscled torso, seeing not an ounce of fat under the very pale, lightly freckled skin. He forced himself to be absolutely still, recalling how he had even wined and dined her to bolster his credibility…to still end here. "Now only I am going to have fun. You…well, it's said electric shocks are incredibly painful to experience…"

"Hey-if you're curious I'm happy to swap places in the spirit of inquiry…" he said swiftly but she stroked her fingers lightly over the taut muscles of his abdomen, her eyes trailing over the smattering of freckles.

"Oh no," she told him cruelly. "It'll be far more fun watching…" And then she sat back on the wooden chair, watching as Savage twisted the dial on the machine, dipped what looked unpleasantly like a pair of defibrillator paddles in the water and then pressed them onto his forearms. He thumbed the current on and Hiccup felt his entire body jerk, back arching as all his muscles tightened agonisingly. A choked cry burst from his mouth. There was a long moment of white-hot pain before the current eased and he collapsed back into the chair, his chest heaving as he gasped for air.

"Enjoying working with me now, are you?" Savage sneered as the assassin forced his bleary gaze back up to inspect the man.

"May…take a little…getting used to…" he grunted, grabbing his scrambled thoughts.

"Your name!" Heather screamed at him.

"Guess," he taunted her.

oOo

 _Sewers were all the same_ , Astrid realised with chagrin, as she waded through effluent under the Berserker Townhouse. The stench, the poor lighting, the inherent danger of rising water levels, noxious gases and of course, infection were all the same but there were times in an agent's career when they were the only option…and she had reached that point. Hiccup was a prisoner inside the Berserker Townhouse and Fishlegs and Toothless had uncovered a route through the sewers that joined with the cellars and then the air-conditioning within the building. It was literally their only hope of rescuing him…so here she was, sloshing through the repugnant stream with the twins bickering behind her. She had already realised they were insane-but could be amazingly efficient when they put their minds to it. And they were extremely focussed and on point now that Fury was in danger.

"Are we there yet?" she asked with no irony over the com.

" _Not enjoying the ambience?_ " Toothless's voice taunted them but she could hear the smile on his words.

"I'm happy to swap if you feel you're missing out," she shot back and the man chuckled.

" _You know, if you weren't working for the BHS, Fury would've gotten on well with you,"_ he commented slowly. " _He appreciates someone as sarcastic as he is_."

"Not possible," she replied as they waded forward, their LED flashlights skimming over the turbid surface. "I mean, he could melt steel with his sarcasm while me…I'm just mildly sarcastic…"

"And violent when angry…" Tuff piped up.

"With a fuse shorter then a Nanodragon blaster!" Ruff added.

"Do you want me to shoot you?" Astrid asked pointedly and there were hurried pleas for mercy. Toothless chuckled again.

" _Since there are quite a lot of flammable gases in there, I would recommend controlling yourself_ ," he said. "Y _our GPS shows you're in position. There should be a ladder up ahead_." Astrid craned her neck.

"Got it. Anything we need to know about where we're going?" she asked, grasping the bottom rung and beginning a steady climb.

" _Hmm? No,_ " Toothless murmured.

" _Blueprints indicate a cellar but I can't rule out surveillance equipment,_ " Fishlegs added.

"We'll be careful," Astrid said. "Have you confirmed Fury's location? Has he been moved?"

" _Third floor, corner room in the southwest of the house,_ " Fishlegs replied promptly as she paused, reaching the manhole cover. Cautiously, she listened, then lifted the metal lid and paused, then slid it aside, bouncing to a crouch inside the dark room. There was a skittering of tiny feet and then the twins arrived as Astrid swept the room.

"Clear," she murmured.

"Apart from the rats," Ruff commented. Tuff shook his head.

"The chicken most definitely does not approve," he commented as they slid the cover back into place and made their way to the walls. In fact, it wasn't so much air conditioning as electrical and other ducts-with ladders placed up the side. It meant they had to be extra careful, for they were passing close by rooms that were in regular use. Checking which was the correct duct, Astrid clamped her light between her teeth, checked the ladder and began to swarm up, with the twins muttering behind her.

"Thor help me," she murmured, hoping that it would just be a simple matter of unlocking Fury, getting him out of some cuffs and smuggling him away. It wasn't what she had planned but if his cover was blown, she wanted him out and safe, rather than risking death at the hands of Dagur and his men. No matter what Snotlout or Spitelout said, she had taken responsibility for Fury- f _or Hiccup_ -and she wouldn't let one of her own down.

" _To your right,_ " Toothless murmured. " _Should be an entrance…_ "

Two feet further up, there was a hatch and she paused, then cautiously cracked it open-to find herself in a cupboard. She was just acclimatising to her surroundings when Tuff gave her a huge shove and she erupted through the doorway, to sprawl on the floor in the hallway-right in the view of a guard.

"Hey, who are you?" he asked and she smiled.

"Er…surprise?" she suggested before whipping out her dart gun and taking him out before he could raise the alarm. Tuff poked his head out.

"Feeling better?" he asked as Ruff hit him while the agent got to her feet.

"Curiously, yes," she admitted then gestured to him. "Conceal him, will you? I need to see what's worth guarding in this place." And then she reached the door-and turned the handle.

The room seemed to consist of a reclined dentist's chair with a man restrained by leather straps with blood smeared around from where the prisoner had clearly struggled. His shirt was ripped open at the front and arms and there were red marks of his skin. He was lying motionless, head flung back. Checking the room was clear, she lowered her weapon and ran forward.

"Hiccup?" she gasped and stared at him-gently resting a hand against his face. He twitched and pained eyes snapped open as she began to unbuckle the straps. He took a shuddering breath and rocked his head to stare at her, seeing a blonde head bowed, rescuing him.

"Cami?" he grunted. "Milady…how…?" Glancing up, Astrid met his disorientated gaze for a long moment before he blinked and sagged. "M'sorry," he mumbled as she released his legs. "I mistook your for someone else…"

 _Your wife…?_ she realised, recalling the image from Bertha's front room. "Are you okay?" He tried to sit up and collapsed sideways off the chair, sprawling in a heap with a low hiss. As she watched, he curled up in obvious pain and the last shreds of her determination to treat him like a convicted murderer evaporated. She dropped to her knees by him and tenderly slid an arm under him, feeling him trembling. A long arm wrapped around her and she found him pulling himself against her, burying his head in her shoulder and hugging her tight. And because something horrible had happened to him, she hugged him back for a long moment, until he released her, his arms bracing himself as he tried to get up.

"Thanks," he said hoarsely as she pulled him up, allowing him to lean hard on her. "I think we need to get out of here."

"Before Dagur returns?" she said, her azure gaze flicking down to look at the red marks, which looked unpleasantly like burns.

"Heather," he rasped. "Dagur was never here…" She froze.

"He never came?" she asked. He shook his head.

"It seems," he rasped, "he recognised me all along…and decided to play me…" He grimaced as he took a step. "Can we leave? Please?" The soft plea was enough to have her hauling him out of the room and down to the cupboard, where the twins were nowhere in sight. He stared at the hatch and then shook his head. "I…"

"Look-I will go first-all you have to do is follow me…and let me worry about the rest," she said, pulling the cupboard door closed. "And if you don't follow, I will come back to get you." He nodded and leaned against the wall as she slid into the hatch then looked up at him, those blue eyes mesmerising him. "Hiccup-trust me," she said. He nodded wearily.

_Why did I call her Cami? Damn it, Thor-why did you let me lose it now when I'm so close?_

But he extended his hand and managed to grasp the ladder, hauling his trembling body onto the rungs and slowly stepping down. He could hear Astrid, going down slowly below him, quietly asking him if he was okay…and though he appreciated the concern, he wished she would just let him alone. He had shown her his weakness, betrayed how broken and pathetic he was…and he had failed. He had his chance-and he had blown it. All he had left was to be taken to prison and die there in decades, alone and forgotten…especially by those who were responsible for breaking him…

…and yet…

He glanced down and met the blue eyes looking up at him, gleaming in the light of her torch. She looked so much like and yet unalike Cami…that each glance hurt his broken heart…but there was something else, something uniquely Astrid that was fierce and independent and determined, much like his dead wife but wilder, more hard edged. But the kindness she had just shown him had been astonishing…and had briefly cracked his shell, weakened by pain and utter despair. And he was fighting against his attraction to her because she so strongly resembled his dead wife-because it was an insult to both women…and dangerous. He had no illusions where he should be and what his ultimate fate was….so there was no future-even if the Norns cold change the laws of space and time to allow him a life beyond the end of this nightmare which didn't involve a cell or a coffin.

His foot slipped and her hand immediately grasped it, gently guiding it back onto the rung and his arms ached from the sudden grip he had clamped round the rung to prevent him falling. His body was aching badly and he was trembling and exhausted once they reached the cellar-and the twins, who had stuffed the unconscious guard in a coal store. Astrid stared at the feet sticking out.

"Do I need to ask why?" she demanded and they shrugged.

"Because it was there," Tuff said as if it was obvious.

"And it will give some protection," Ruff added. Frowning, the blonde agent helped the listing Hiccup down.

"From…what?" he asked hoarsely and they stared at him, eyes popping at his ashen appearance, made worse by the harsh beams of the flashlight.

"Hiccup-no offence but you look like crap," Ruff said, her voice concerned. The female twin advanced, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. "You okay?" He nodded wordlessly, which worried her more: the lack of sass was very unusual for the bitter man he had become.

"Heather…knows," he managed. "Need to get out…" Tuff immediately moved the manhole cover and gestured.

"Astrid-get him away from here," the male twin ordered, his voice suddenly all business. "We've rigged all of the ducts except the one you came through-and that will take us a couple of minutes. Once that's done…"

"Ka-blooey!" Ruff finished, grinning. "And as you're moving slower than Snotlout towards a long and boring job, you need to get a lead!" Despite his spinning head, Hiccup managed to twitch a small smile.

"Wow, he really sounds like a great team player…" he rasped as Astrid helped him down the short climb into the sewer. "Not sure which is worse…the smell or _more_ ladders…" Shaking her head, she pulled his arm over her shoulders and wrapped her around his waist, determinedly pulling him along.

"Well, I like to see you challenged," she retorted and then she shook her head. "But not hurt." He took a deep breath and regretted it.

"Too late for that," he murmured. "I was hurt long before we ever met. I was broken beyond repair…"

"Nothing is irreparable," Astrid told him. "I believe there is always hope, no matter how dark things are…"

"There is none for me," he said, coughing. She tightened her grasp on him as he staggered.

"Hiccup-we tried doing it your way and it hasn't worked…but it was a brave effort." Her voice was surprisingly compassionate. "Now we maybe try something different. You were a black ops sniper…and we know where he is. We can track Heather-and use her, as she used you. Dagur has to be stopped. And you are the best person to take him down…with the twins…" She paused. "And I will ensure you go free. If we don't get another shot, I won't put you in prison: the Contract will be voided…"

"No…" he grunted, pulling to a halt. "No-I gave my word-and the Contract will continue. If I fail, I accept the penalty. But this will be my last chance. If I fail…I want to give everything in the effort, Astrid. Grant me that chance. Because there is nothing else left."

She stared at him and there was a pause.

"I am not sure your family would want you to die if you had a chance to live on," she reminded him and he swayed.

"Maybe I don't want to live on with them gone?" he said tonelessly. She stared at him and though her mouth moved, she had no words.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But please…don't give up…" She looked into his eyes. "You have friends who would give their lives for you…and you have me. I risked my career to get you out." He stared at her, once more captivated by her eyes, by the gentle plea that had him considering-if even just for a second-that life without Cami may not be wholly impossible…

"You wanna join the 'Friends of Fury'?" he suddenly teased her and her eyes widened.

"Well, not sure what that would involve?" she retorted and he coughed and then leaned against her.

"Well, badges, maybe a cap, a secret handshake and a quarterly newsletter," he smirked, resuming his unsteady way along the sewer.

"Badges, eh? Do I get a certificate for my wall?" she replied, smiling. He tried to look away because the smile was cute and he didn't want to feel the little warm feeling in his chest again. _Because it felt like a betrayal of Cami and everything they had._ But he forced his voice to remain light and teasing.

"Maybe even a signed photo," he offered her and she winked.

"Definitely holding out for that!" she laughed as there was a suddenly splashing and the twins literally came sprinting by them through the muck.

"Gangway!" Tuff yelled.

"Detonation in five…four…three…two…one…" Ruff yelled and cringed.

Nothing happened and the twins ground to a half, glaring at each other.

"Loki damn it-did you use the expired fuses again?" she snapped at her brother.

"No? I thought that you…"

And then an explosion shook the entire sewer, particles fell from the ceiling and the roar of water approaching suddenly filled the tunnel.

"RUN!" Ruff yelled as the wave barrelled round the corner and engulfed them all.


	12. Unravelled

**Twelve: Unravelled**

Astrid glanced over her shoulder as the tsunami approached and on instinct, she clamped her hand around Hiccup's wrist the instant before the wave hit. And then she found herself thrown around, buffeted and tossed in the foul effluent. Every ounce of her being was focussed on surviving the immediate rush, keeping her head up and not swallowing any fluid. She felt herself flipped, colliding with another body and then dragged down…but as she felt herself sinking, she was hauled up and finally, she broke surface, her tortured lungs gasping urgently for the fetid air.

Hiccup was floating beside her, her grip on his arm the thing that had dragged them both to the surface. They were both coughing and soaked, still moving fast in the flow. He looked exhausted but he was determinedly swimming, pulling her along and she released her grip on his arm to pull alongside, gesturing.

"You okay?" she asked hoarsely and he managed to crack a smile.

"Just been captured, tortured, rescued and half-drowned in a sewer…never been better," he replied gruffly. "But I think we should get out of here before we die of bubonic plague!"

"There's a ladder over there," she said and struck out, hearing him splashing behind her and managing to thrash their way across the stream and make the ladder. As soon as she grabbed the metal, she half-turned and offered Hiccup her hand, feeling his grasp hers without hesitation. It was only when they were both hanging safely onto the metal that she saw him relax and look exhausted.

"Ladders," he groaned. "I'd even prefer a rope…"

"I wouldn't," Astrid sighed and slowly hauled herself onto the rusting structure, then stuck her hand out. "Come on, Fury. I didn't wade through this sewer just to leave you behind…"

"Well, that's a relief," he sassed and grabbed her hand, allowing her to help him pull himself up onto the ladder. It creaked alarmingly. "Any sign of the twins?" She sighed.

"You know, I'm not sure whether I should worry or not," she admitted. "I mean, they managed to blow up half the house, collapse the sewer and almost drown us…but they were the only ones who stepped up to come and help rescue you…" Hiccup coughed, painfully hauling himself up another step on the ladder.

"Shouldn't have bothered," he grunted, feeling his vision waver. "I failed-and I should have been left to my fate…" She glared at him, pausing in her ascent.

"Hiccup-you're on my team," she told him sternly. "And we don't leave our people behind…"

"But I'm not," he said bitterly. "I trusted the government, gave them my loyalty and my service once before-and look what happened! My family gone and I…was left for dead. So the only people I can trust are my friends. And you-for all your fine words, Agent Hofferson-want to lock me up for centuries for my crimes. You should have left me behind and saved the taxpayers thousands of dollars!" He blinked and almost let go-but she swung round, sliding down the side of the ladder to slam her feet on the rung below his, her arm wrapping round his shaking and sodden body.

"If you kill him, you win," she murmured. "And somehow, he knew. You said he was never there. And your details are so secret that he should never have found you the first time. So something is very wrong." She felt him lean against her, feeling the warmth streaming off his body, hoping he would appreciate that he wasn't alone. "We need to regroup."

"We need a shower," he murmured, his hands tightening around the rungs once more. "Boy, you're boneheaded, aren't you?"

"Hoffersons never give up," she told him firmly. "I'm a Viking through and through." He reached up and grasped the next rung, hauling his body up.

"Okay-you win," he groaned. "Let's get out of this damned sewer!"

oOo

Astrid forged ahead when they reached the top of the ladder and cautiously lifted the manhole cover, peering out-but they were in the middle of a small sidewalk half-shielded by a green-painted cast iron trash can. She scrambled out and crouched by the hole, helping Hiccup out as sirens wailed in the distance. The horn of a fire truck blasted as it roared past and they glanced up as Astrid shoved the manhole cover back in place.

"Hmm…they're looking elsewhere," Astrid noted, craning her neck and then popping up as Hiccup scrambled to his feet. Already people were giving them a wide berth and casting them disgusted glances.

"Except the people in the vicinity who are looking right at us," the hitman noted.

"Okay," Astrid murmured, checking her com and finding it was dead. "And perfect…"

"I'm not sure I can walk all the way across town smelling like this without gassing myself from the stench," he noted gruffly. She frowned-then grabbed his hand, hauling him across the road to a chorus of expletives from the citizens of Berserk, who were diving for cover. They marched into the pharmacy and bought a giant bottle of body wash and shampoo and then headed into the beat-up hotel next door, advertising rooms for $39.99 per night.

The man on the desk gagged as they approached and covered his face with his sleeve.

"Go away!" he gasped.

"Do you have showers?" Astrid asked.

"You need hosing down!" the man at the desk choked.

"We'll take a room with your most powerful shower for one night," Astrid said, feeling in her pocket and peeling a damp hundred dollar bill.

"One room?" the man asked, his eyes fixed on the feculent note. "And you promise you'll never come back?"

"In fact, we may not stay for the whole night," Hiccup offered and the man snatched the bill.

"Room 15-best shower in the place," he said and threw the keys at them-and then retreated. They headed for the stairwell as the sound of air freshener being sprayed wafted from the back. Hiccup sniffed.

"Hate to say it…but we're more fragrant than that freshener," Hiccup commented as they limped to the room and Astrid opened the door. They both halted at the threshold and peered into the dim, damp-smelling space. "And this room is just fantastic as well." Undaunted, the agent walked in an inspected the shower, finding-to her shock-a modern power shower and clean white bathroom.

"Wow." Her voice was shocked as Hiccup limped to the chair and awkwardly sat down.

"You go first," he sighed. "I may take a while…" She looked over to him, her eyes filled with gratitude…and then she walked to him.

"Don't run off," she warned him sternly, closing and locking the door. He chuckled.

"Because I really haven't a clue where to go," he mumbled. "I'll be good, Astrid. I need a shower and a rest and then…we can decide what we do next…" Satisfied, she rose and shucked her coat off, urgently unbraiding her sodden hair.

"Absolutely," she reminded him. "We. You're not alone, Hiccup. You have friends…and I am determined that you will get your shot."

He sat back, watching as she vanished and the water started running. Suddenly, he felt old, tired and hopeless. Despite a plan that set everything up, they had been betrayed. There was no way that Dagur could know he was associated with the invading 'Meatheads' and the fact they had used him to dispose of the opposition-and then ambushed him had told him that he had just been played.

But Astrid had come for him-something he had never expected. He was fully aware that she had risked much to break him out of the prison transport…not that it had been headed in the correct direction anyway…and they were essentially fugitives. They had been operating using their contacts but independent of their chain of command…and yet…someone had been contacting the BHS. He was certain that was why Dagur somehow knew. It was why he avoided any so-called intelligence or law-enforcement agencies and guarded his identity jealously-but somehow, Astrid and her little team had found him, trapped him and offered him a deal he had to accept. He blinked. Well, Astrid and Fishlegs had tracked him down-he really couldn't see what Snotlout added to the mission apart from irritation.

He closed his eyes and felt a wave of pain run through him. Now the urgency had settled, he was able to feel the pain once more of losing his father, of saying goodbye to the man he loved and had always wanted to make proud. No one had seen it coming, a good six months after the assassination of Oswald Oswaldson and his men had ambushed the hitman and his family with military precision. He grimaced. The attack that had taken down his mother and left Stoick in a coma had been so brutal, so precise that he knew it wasn't just the work of the hoodlums he had met, observed and outwitted in Dagur's townhouse, the men who usually ran his operations. They were effective in enforcing his rule of Berserk, in keeping opposition off his territory and collecting rents, kickbacks and extortion money on time but in carrying out the executions of his family?

"Someone is helping him," he murmured.

How hadn't he seen it? How hadn't he realised that Dagur and his band of hoodlums wouldn't have done it on their own? But he knew the answer.

_Because Dagur had been there at the end. Dagur had been the man who pulled the trigger. Dagur had been the one who had ripped everything from Hiccup's heart and left him the shell of a man he was, an empty vessel filled only with hatred and revenge…and looking at the wrong person._

_Someone used me._

His eyes snapped open as the water clicked off and he heard the floorboards creak as someone stepped out of the shower. The herbal scent of the body wash Astrid had grabbed was wafting through on the steam that had curled under the door and he was suddenly glad he wasn't alone. He was injured and though he would never give up, he hadn't seen any way out. Until Astrid had appeared and suddenly, there was hope.

He turned his head towards the door, hearing muttering and banging. _Hope._ It was really something he had given up on the moment that bullet shredded his flesh, the moment he had seen his son and wife gunned down, the moment he woke with nothing left except the shell of his father and his crazy godfather. But seeing Astrid had broken his resolve and he had given himself away…and again, as they scrambled out of the sewer. He had no choice but to trust her.

And then the door opened and Astrid emerged, swathed in a towel with her long blonde hair brushed out over her shoulders and her damp, newly-washed clothes in her hands.

"Bathroom's free," she said cheerfully, her blue eyes sparkling. Unwillingly, he stared at her, her cheeks pink and lithe body moving with confidence. "There are some towels left and plenty of the bodywash-I used some to wash my clothes out and I think I saw an iron I can use to dry them…" She paused and saw him gaping. "Did I miss a bit?"

"No…I was just surprised you cleaned up so well," he admitted, levering himself up to his feet and feeling his legs almost buckle-but he gestured her away. "Stay back-I'm still a little…grimy…" She smiled as he limped past.

"I'll be waiting," she said as the door closed.

He stripped and washed carefully, making sure his wounds were as cleaned as he could manage and his auburn hair was sluiced free of everything foul. He scrubbed himself twice more and then slid down to sit under the shower, washing his clothes through and then just curling up.

He had never felt so far away from avenging the people he loved.

oOo

There was chaos in the motel when they lost contact with the team-and when the twins turned up nearly an hour later, stinking of sewerage and babbling about explosions, pungent tsunamis and losing the other two. Snotlout's comment of 'Good Riddance!' had almost gotten him punched by Toothless but the matter had been dropped when Tuffnut-wearing an evil grin and pre-shower-had hugged Snotlout and tried to kiss him. This had chased the agent away to hide in the shower and scrub himself scarlet while the twins explained they had already rented out the neighbouring room and were going to shower there now.

But the two information specialists had both shared a look once the twins had left and the windows were wide open to let out the stench. Snotlout was grumbling in the shower and singing so Toothless had slumped back on the sagging couch.

"Someone tipped Dagur off," he concluded, casting a jaundiced eye at Fishlegs but the agent was equally firm.

"Not by us," he said. "Astrid and I are AWOL and she may be a fugitive. I can access our systems because, quite frankly, the firewalls are a little leaky…helped by myself, I have to confess…but we haven't communicated with Director Jorgensen since we came to Berserk." Green eyes drifted to the sounds of bad singing from the shower.

"But has he?" he asked astutely. "He's never been really on the team, he's moaned all the way-and honestly-he's only here because Daddy wants his little boy in the service…"

"He does have his good points," Fishlegs said reasonably, perversely feeling he should try to stick up for his fellow-agent…and then he sighed. "And he can be a good agent…but he is a really poor team player! And he lacks any sort of overview of the situation."

"He's a grunt, who thinks he's a leader," Toothless translated. Fishlegs rose and walked quietly over to Snotlout's place and fished out his phone.

"One way to check," he said and plugged a cable into his computer, swiftly breaking through the security and accessing the emails, texts, messages and call record. Toothless rose and leaned over his shoulder, shocked that the husky agent was willing to search through his fellow agent's device. "Hmm…I wonder what this 1111-999 number is…he phones it an awful lot…"

"They're usually sex lines," Toothless said matter-of-factly. "So he's clearly not as attractive to the opposite sex as he would like to think…" Fishlegs blushed all the way to the tips of his ears and hastily scrolled down the list.

"That one is a Service number," he said, tapping the screen. "And he phones it every evening."

Toothless stood up and stared at the shower room.

"Find Fury's tracker," he said calmly. "Find out where he is." Fishlegs was already tapping on the computer, his eyes focussed on the programme located the man.

"Hotel Splendid, Lunatic Row, Off Lower Sleuther Street," he reported with a frown. "He's on the third floor."

"How's he in a Hotel…and why?" Toothless murmured as Fishlegs's cell rang. He answered the unknown number and frowned.

"Hello?" he asked warily.

" _Fish, it's me. This is an unsecured line so listen carefully,_ " Astrid said briskly as the husky agent switched the phone the speaker. " _We're safe-just freshening up after our swim. They knew who we were. There's a leak._ "

"Guessed that," Fish replied, frowning with concentration. "Probably located it."

" _We can use it,_ " Astrid said. " _We'll be in the neighbourhood for a change of pace. Get in the pizzas. I like mine hot._ "

"Understood," Fish said and hung up, smiling slightly as Toothless frowned.

"And that actually means?" he asked impatiently. "I worked for Special Ops. I recognise a code when I hear one…"

"Fury's injured and we need weapons and supplies. And she wants to know what went wrong." Toothless's green eyes glittered with anger.

"Well, we can certainly answer that one," he said. "I'll send the twins for munitions-they have a van full."

"And Snotlout?" Fishlegs asked him. "I don't think Astrid would approve of you killing him…or Fury…" Toothless gave a smirk as the shower finally clicked off.

"We're not going to kill him," he said with a knowing look. "We're going to use him!"

"Well, that will be a change, Snotlout actually being useful," Fishlegs commented as he turned back to his screen.

oOo

_"_ _Lieutenant Haddock?" The familiar gruff voice of the General came clear over the landline and he smiled at the gruff tone, imagining the man's eyes twinkling as he spoke to his top agent._

_"_ _General Utstoett, it's good to hear you sir," he had replied formally, instinctively standing at attention as he spoke to the man. He could imagine the huge shape, squeezed behind the regulation desk, the man's huge black beard a generous interpretation of army regulations and his dark eyes intelligent and calculating._

_"_ _I'm sorry to interrupt your R &R, Lieutenant, but there is a rumour that someone has eyes on you," the General reported. Every sense on alert, Hiccup glanced to the kitchen, where Cami was chopping vegetables for their tea. He was home, Sam was in his high chair, banging his little wooden Viking axe that Hiccup's father, Stoick, had given him when he was born and he felt a lurch in his stomach. Turning abruptly, he walked to the door onto the verandah, keeping his voice low._

_"_ _Eyes, sir?" he asked directly, his tone grim._

_"_ _Intel and ABI suspect that someone you encountered-or a relative-bears a grudge," the General reported._

_"_ _Sir-it's probably a false alarm," he reminded the man. "My existence is classified almost to Presidential level. No one but you and the President know what I do and how I serve. To everyone else, I am a weapons instructor. And no one knows where I live. At all."_

_There was a pause and a sigh._

_"_ _You're probably right, Lieutenant," General Uststoett sighed, his heavy body causing his chair to creak. "No one has notified me about this but it is unusual enough to want to give you the head's up. It's the first time anyone has mentioned Night Fury and you in the same message."_

_"_ _It'll be careful, sir," he said as he heard Cami call. "My wife is calling me. I gotta go…"_

_"_ _Give my best wishes to her," the General said and hung up. Staring at the phone for a second, he stuffed the device in his pocket and turned-to an armful of the busty blonde, with playful blue eyes and an assured manner that masked her own insecurities. Cami stared into his worried face._

_"_ _What's up, lover?" she asked him gently and he froze. As a counsellor and psychologist, she was almost impossible to keep a secret from so he opted to avoid the question._

_"_ _General," he said. "Classified." She slid her hands over his tense shoulders._

_"_ _It's worried you," she said quietly, her eyes searching his face-and he smiled, wrapping his arms around her pliable shape._

_"_ _It's nothing to concern us," he said calmly. "I'm the most classified solider in the service. The General was passing on a rumour. But no one knows who I am or where I live-so we have nothing to worry about." He paused and stared deep into her eyes. "My love-if I thought for a moment there was any danger to you or Sam, I would get you to a safe place." Then he leaned forward and kissed her. "But just to be safe, we'll all go to your Mom's tomorrow…"_

_She stared up playfully into his eyes._

_"_ _And tonight, lover, you're all mine," she whispered._

_"_ _MOMMA! POPPA! Lookee!" Sam yelled and the two giggled, resting their foreheads together._

_"_ _Once our little soldier is sleeping," he teased her. "Come on, Milady-I'll watch him while you finish." She grinned._

_"_ _Love you," she smirked and reluctantly pulled back._

_"_ _MOMMA!"_

_"_ _Coming," she called and headed back as he stared into the gloom._

_Maybe it was time to disappear…just in case…but first, he needed to make a couple of calls and warn his friends…_

_But General Alvin Utstoett had died in a gas explosion in his apartment that night, shortly after Hiccup's parents were ambushed and the intruders had snatched the hitman, his wife and young son from their home. And in the cold dawn, out in the wild of Berserk, they were all executed…_

oOo

Hiccup's eyes snapped open and he managed a strangled yell, the cold water running over his beaten shape. He gasped, swallowing a mouthful of water and blindly reached up to click the water off. His eyes were stinging with water and tears, his chest tight with a toxic mixture of guilt and despair.

If he had gone that evening, taking them to safety instead of trusting the army to protect him as they had promised, they would still be alive.

It was all his fault.


	13. A New Plan

**Thirteen: The New Plan**

The emergency services were clustered around the smoking ruins of the Berserker Compound as Astrid Hofferson walked up, waving the Press ID she always carried and asking the typical questions any reporter would. She glimpsed some of the faces they had picked out through surveillance but there was no sign of Heather-and she knew that Dagur probably wasn't within thirty miles of the place. Now she could get a clear view, she could appreciate just how effectively the twins had paid Dagur's gang back for hurting their friend and she paused, then picked out the Watch Commander, standing by the leading fire appliance and walked up to him.

"So what happened?" she asked. The man frowned until she flashed her Press ID again.

"Jormundgandr Magazine? I'm really not familiar with…"

"Independent publisher-we cover anything," she told him confidently. "The house?"

"Looks like a gas explosion," the fireman told her with a shrug. "But the degree of collapse in such a sturdy old house is…remarkable." He leaned closer. "We suspect they had serious ordnance in there…which is why the place fell…" he added. Her eyes widened in appreciative surprise.

"Really?" she managed. "That's amazing…" _And not at all related to demolitions experts blowing the place up…though they almost certainly had a large armoury…_

"I can't let you get any closer because of the risk of additional explosions," he told her.

"Was anyone hurt?" she asked sympathetically. He sighed.

"A couple of staff are missing as well as a house guest…but the owner's sister is safe and has been taken away already to be with her family. The rest of the staff are trying to recover what they can from the rubble." Her azure gaze trailed over the Berserker gang members and she knew they had probably missed their chance…because they were leaving Berserk.

_But where was Dagur?_

She nodded thanks to the Watch Commander, mimed a couple of pictures using her phone-which was still non-functional-and then headed back towards the hotel room. She hoped Hiccup would be showered and capable of moving so they rejoin the others and regroup. And find out how Dagur uncovered Hiccup.

Returning to the optimistically-and inaccurately-named 'Hotel Splendid', Astrid gave a jaundiced look at the desk. The concierge was missing and the sounds of a football game were blasting from the room behind the desk, explaining his dereliction of duty. Shrugging, she headed up the stairs to room 15, her supplies clasped in her arms, her steps almost silent. She listened but the shower wasn't running any more so she assumed he would be resting-because, Gods, he needed it. She had thought that she was driven but meeting Fury had made her realise that she really had no clue what true obsession was. The man had thrown himself into the mission, performing feats she wouldn't have thought possible, going undercover without proper provision at the risk of his life…and she got the distinct impression that didn't feature especially highly on his radar. In fact, the soft words he had spoken in the sewer came back to her in a rush.

_I was hurt long before we ever met. I was broken beyond repair…_

_If I fail…I want to give everything in the effort, Astrid. Grant me that chance. Because there is nothing else left._

She closed her eyes. The words were probably the most truthful he had spoken, his true feelings leaking from under his practiced mask of sass and sarcasm…and they hinted at a man who was beyond despair.

_I am not sure your family would want you to die if you had a chance to live on._

_Maybe I don't want to live on with them gone?_

From what she had gathered, his family had been killed, as a result of Dagur…or by him. What Toothless had revealed about his father, locked in a coma for years until he had finally passed, broke her heart because she had seen the look in Hiccup's eyes when he had returned. His loss was the last straw and she knew what a sober and sane agent would do.

_Leave him. Hand him to the authorities for his crimes and abandon the mission. No one would blame you-because everyone has failed against Dagur. And Spitelout wouldn't care…_

Because Hiccup was a liability, a man who no longer cared if he lived or died-and that meant danger for all around him. He was obsessed with his vengeance and his cover was blown…

But he had friends who would fight for him, risking their lives on his behalf. And that subtly told her what kind of man he had been, what kind of friend he was. She couldn't imagine the twins offering their friendship and loyalty to anyone for a trivial reason and Toothless was smart and pragmatic. And his record…such of it that remained after Toothless had expunged it…was clearly exemplary.

He was a man who had served with distinction, lost everything when he should have been protected and was basically abandoned by those who should be overflowing with gratitude for his service. He deserved her help.

Sighing, she quietly opened the door and walked into the room, finding Fury asleep on the bed, exhausted by the tribulations of his day. A towel was wrapped around his lean shape, wiry muscles evident. His face, freed of his mask, was younger and looked more vulnerable, the planes of his face marked with freckles and bruising. His hair was a tousled auburn disaster, sticking in all directions but her eyes were drawn to the horrible red burns on his chest, evidence of the torture he had endured. Quietly, she pulled the tube of burn cream she had purchased from the pharmacy and rested it by the bed, while tenderly drawing the sheet up to half-cover him. And then she walked to the tiny chest of drawers, resting down the cardboard containers of noodles-she had tried the pizzeria but they had refused the stained and unpleasant money she had offered. Scanning the room, she shrugged off her coat and found his clothes, hung hopefully over a stone-cold radiator, and switched the iron back on. Smiling, she glanced back, hearing his breathing remain deep and even as he slept…and she stiffened…

There was a wound on his back, just to the left of the spine that had healed and was scarred, the tissue white showing it was an old wound. He had been shot in the back from point blank range.

_Dagur._

Her mind supplied the details and she stared, breathing hard, her fists clenched as she silently promised that the man who did this-and slew his wife and son-would not be permitted to get away with it.

So she turned to her ironing, drying out and pressing his clothes professionally. They needed to keep moving…because though Dagur's men assumed Hiccup was dead, it probably wouldn't remain that way for long. And now they didn't even know where Dagur was.

oOo

Hiccup slowly awoke, aware that he was snuggled on his side, a towel wrapped around his otherwise naked body and a sheet pulled considerately up to his waist. His chest hurt and he frowned as he heard the unmistakeable sounds of someone ironing, a very quiet humming sounding above the hisses.

It was ' _For the Dancing and the Dreaming_ ', the old song that his father and mother had sung at his wedding to Cami. Frowning, still searching temporarily empty memory for where he was, he rocked his head to see a blurry blonde shape ironing, humming away. He winced, frowning.

"Cami?" he murmured as her head snapped round and his vision cleared. He groaned and pressed a hand protectively over the burns.

"Welcome back," Astrid said calmly, keeping the sympathy from her tone.

"Why? Where've I been?" he sassed back, his mask dropping instinctively back into place. "I thought you had gone out to fetch some supplies and make contact." He determined sat up, grimacing as he pulled his burns.

"Try the Flamazine cream," she advised him, gesturing to the tube at his side. "It's supposed to be excellent for burns." He snagged the tube, squeezed a little of the cream out and smeared it carefully over his burns.

"Thanks," he murmured. "Anything to drink?"

She handed him a cup of coffee and he swallowed the hot liquid rapidly, sighing.

"Okay-and the verdict?" he probed.

"Fish and Toothless are looking for the leak and finding us some proper munitions," she reported and handed him a container. "I'm afraid it's Chinese-since the pizza shop didn't like to look-or smell-of my money…"

"Can't think why," Hiccup sassed, tucking in hungrily. Grabbing her own, she sat on the sagging chair and tucked in as well. "Gods, sweet and sour chicken noodles with chicken balls. How did you know? I love this!"

"Always my favourite takeaway," Astrid confirmed, chewing. "Sorry it's not so hot but I didn't want to wake you-you looked like you needed the rest…" Emerald eyes flicked up and he stilled.

"That was very considerate, thank you," he said tonelessly. She frowned, catching the edge to his voice.

"Fury…you needed our help and you are on my team," she said, resting her container down. "I wasn't going to leave you there…"

"I failed," he said tonelessly. "I have never failed a contract before and this time, I let my desperation to kill him overcome my caution. It was a bad plan, a reckless plan based on inadequate intelligence and no confirmation of the location of the target…"

"So what do we need to do then?" she asked him as he listlessly poked the noodles with his chopsticks.

"Where is Dagur?" he murmured.

"We assumed he was out of town…maybe in the property he owns in Hysteria," she said thoughtfully. "And I guess you were hoping he would be coming to speak to you…" He shook his head.

"Hoping is amateur," he condemned flatly. "And damn it-you got me hooked as well. It almost cost me my life. We need to know where he is-and track his movements. And then we need him into the KZ on our terms."

"KZ?" Astrid was staring at him now: his tone was cold and utterly professional, a glimpse of the man he had been, the black ops sniper.

"Kill zone," he said without hesitation. She pursed her lips and laid her food down.

"So why would Dagur leave the safety of his stronghold?" she asked and then frowned. "And why did we think he was in the Townhouse anyway?"

"His coms must be routed through there," Hiccup said, spearing a chicken ball and chewing thoughtfully.

"So did he call Heather?" Astrid asked. "I mean, we got Fish to bug her lines. If he called, they could run a proper trace…" He nodded.

"You know, I've been looking in the wrong direction-we all have. Probably for years," he said bitterly. "He's been hiding. He doesn't come out for a challenge for a rival gang or to pretend to be quiet while committing atrocities. His only lever is his sister…"

"That went well," Astrid commented, diving in her container for the last few noodles.

"Again, we're looking at this the wrong way," Hiccup told her, finishing his meal. "We've been treating her as if she was a collateral. She's not: she's up to her neck in the family business. And for all her pretty act, she knows exactly what she's doing-both in defending her brother's bastard organisation…and in torturing me." His tone had turned savage. Astrid gasped. He took a long shuddering breath. "So we do to him what he has done to everyone else who crosses him."

She stared in shock: his face was grim and his eyes glittered coldly.

"We destroy everything he has and everything he cares for. So he either comes out or he loses everything," he said. Shaking her head, she clasped her hands.

"The Commander will never go for it," she said as he stared directly into her eyes.

"Then you have a choice," he told her. "How badly do you want to stop Dagur?"

oOo

"Fishlegs? This is Astrid."

The husky man stared at his phone. The woman was speaking very loudly and determinedly and he cast a glance at Snotlout, who was lounging on the bed, plucking his eyebrows.

"How are you?" he asked, trying to cover the microphone with his hand.

"I'm fine," she said loudly. "Any news?" Toothless nodded and the husky agent sighed.

"Absolutely no problems this end," he reported. "Fortunately, Snot is in contact with base so we've got plenty of back-up available if required…and they're fully apprised of our mission…every day…"

"That's useful," she bellowed.

"How is he?" Fishlegs added.

"We've got a problem," she yelled, causing Fishlegs to wrench the phone away from his ear. He winced and glanced worriedly at Toothless.

"What kind of problem?" he asked.

"Fury," Astrid said very loudly. "He's badly injured. Not fit to be moved. I think he's running a fever and is delirious. We're in the Hotel Splendid on Lunatic Row. Room 15. I'm heading out to see if I can find some antibiotics and something for his fever. This is very secret because he looks pretty helpless now. I'll be in contact soon."

"Astrid…" Fishlegs said urgently but she hung up as Toothless and Fishlegs shared a look. Then they both looked at Snotlout, who was leaping to his feet.

"Time for a run," he announced, grinning and dashing through the door. The two analysts paused and then tried not to laugh-but Fishlegs caught the triumphant look in Toothless's green eyes and burst out laughing.

"Do you think he knows what he's doing?" he chuckled. Toothless stared at the door and peered through the fisheye peep hole: Snotlout was walking briskly down the walkway, the phone already clamped to his ear.

"Exactly what we want," he said.

oOo

Hiccup accepted Astrid's gun, weighing the weapon in his left hand and checking the sights. Emerald eyes flicked up to inspect her face.

"You sure you trust me with this?" he asked her. She took a breath and nodded.

"With my life-because I know you deserve to get your shot," she told him firmly. "And you're the best shot I know." He checked the magazine and then slapped it back into place.

"You look after your weapon," he commented.

"Because my life depends on it," she reminded him, smiling. She had carefully cleaned it as he had showered because it was as stinking and unpleasant as everything else that had been though the sewer…though not so much now. He painfully levered himself to his feet, grimacing and tightening his grip on the firearm.

"So how long do you think it'll take your idiot lapdog to blabber to his father," he asked her dryly. There was a pause as she tried not to laugh, factoring in the few minutes it had taken her to walk back from the public payphone..

"If it takes him more than five minutes, he's slipping," she laughed. "Look, he hates the idea of us operating independently-mainly because we can ignore him and treat him like the muttonhead he is, rather than doing what his precious Daddy orders,"

"Make me glad I chose a different branch of the service to my father," he said absently. "Because Gods, that would have been awkward…" She looked at him, trying not to look intensely interested even though she was dying to ask. "I mean, he was Navy so if the great Admiral Haddock had introduced a sarcastic auburn fishbone as his son, all Helheim would have broken out. Thank Thor I chose the Army…" Smiling politely, she filed the information away to put into her search for his name and her means of breaking the deal. And though she no longer really wanted to put him away-because she found herself admiring his passion, single-mindedness and obvious exceptional skills-she had seen him gun down a large number of individuals with no remorse and he was a cold-blooded killer.

_But then, if you retrained to be a ruthless and highly effective killer, you have to learn to set those human feelings aside on the job…_

"So how do you plan to take everything away from Dagur?" she asked as he smiled, hearing rough noise. A beat-up camper van rumbled round the corner and parked obviously by the crosswalk, the windows wound down and smoke billowing from inside the vehicle.

"Hit him where it hurts," he smirked. "Heather." Her eyes widened.

"You're going to…?" she gasped, shocked and he hiked up an eyebrow, wincing as he pulled on his bruises.

"That would be far too merciful," he said coldly. "No, I'm going to ruin her irreparably and make sure they both know whose fault it is." She relaxed a little as the squeal of tyres sounded from he street. "And we have guests…" They exited swiftly, both ducking into the cleaning closet in the hall, the door ajar a fraction as Hiccup peered through the tiny gap. Cramped, unable to see and pressed indecently close to the tense hitman, Astrid didn't even dare move for fear of giving their location away.

Footsteps thundered up the stairs and four men that Hiccup recognised as Dagur's enforcers raced onto the landing, drew their weapons and erupted into the room. They yelled as the roar of gunfire filled the room, bullets shredding sheets, pillows, cushions, chairs, the mirror and the wall. But when the flashes of gunfire died away, there was an eerie silence.

"He isn't here," one said, glaring. "It was a bum lead…"

"Better find him," a second said. "Dagur hates it when you come up empty."

"And we can't upset Dagur," Hiccup announced, shoving the door open as he fired. Before the men could even turn to face him, he had gunned them down, walking forward to administer two more shots to men who were still twitching. Astrid emerged and stared in shock as Hiccup leaned forward, dipping his left index finger into the blood oozing from the nearest man's wounds and deliberately smeared it across the stained yellowish plaster on the wall.

**DAGUR-**

**FURY IS COMING 4 U**

And then he turned and sped down the stairs, past the cowering concierge. Taking a final look, she raced after him, nodding an apology and erupting onto the street as Hiccup just reached the camper van. Ruffnut stuck her head out of the window.

"Thorston taxi?" she asked with a grin. "Gods you look rough! I mean really terrible. In fact…oh, hi Astrid," she added. Grimacing, Hiccup sagged.

"Just get us out of here," he said, jumping into the smoke filled van. "Tuff-what the Helheim has been going on here?" The male twin looked up from the barbecue he had insanely set up in the middle of the van, sausages sizzling away.

"Naw," he said. "Just thought you'd appreciate a nice fresh banger. And I have some burgers and onions and…"

"Oh Thor, just get me away from here," the hitman groaned, collapsing onto the couch as Astrid entered and pulled to door closed before staring and starting to cough. Tuff nut gave a shrug.

"No onions for you then," he said.


	14. Countermeasures

**Fourteen: Countermeasures**

The door of the motel room burst open and Astrid marched in, her face furious. Toothless looked up and was about to open his mouth-but saw the woman lock her fierce azure gaze on the stocky shape of Snotlout, who was lounging on the bed again.

"You!" she snapped. He smiled lazily as Fishlegs swivelled round with a look of fascinated horror as the oblivious man made a 'kissy' face at her.

"Hey, babe," he said smugly. "Missed me?"

She punched him full in the face. He yelped as he collapsed backwards, clutching at his nose.

"Nope-I think that was directly on target!" she snapped as Hiccup walked in, looking very much the worse for wear. In a second, Toothless was on his feet, hugging him fiercely, leaning forward to breath quiet words into his ear.

"Thank Thor you're alive," he murmured. "Are you okay?" Hiccup hugged him back.

"No," he murmured. "Thanks." Then he pulled back and turned his attentions to Snotlout, was was whining and trying to staunch the bleeding from his broken nose.

"Look what the cat dragged in," Snotlout sneered thickly, his clear blue eyes sweeping over Hiccup's battered shape-and then he stiffened as the pistol was whipped from the back of Hiccup's waistband, the click of the trigger cocking loud in the sudden silence. Astrid could see the muzzle was aiming directly between Snotlout's suddenly shocked eyes and no one dared move-not even the twins who arrived, chewing burgers laden with ketchup and onions.

"Wow-NF looks really really _really_ REALLY pissed," Tuff mumbled loudly, spraying crumbs over his sister. She pulled a face and almost choked mid-chew.

"You betrayed me," Hiccup said in a cold, deadly voice. "Give me one reason why I shouldn't dispose of you like the trash you are?" Sweating, Snotlout looked appealingly at the others-and found a sea of blank or unfriendly faces.

"Astrid? Babe? You know I love you…and I would never…" he protested. She looked fit to kill him with her bare hands.

"AAGH! You muttonhead! Didn't you realise my phone call to Fish was a set-up…to confirm that you were the traitor?" she yelled, lunging forward. Toothless and Fishlegs grabbed her and held her back with difficulty. Snotlout cringed back.

"What? I mean, babe-how could you possibly believe…?" he protested in a desperate voice.

"You idiot! Fish and Toothess watched you make the call! They checked your phone and saw you phone your Dad every day-often more than once-so he knew exactly what we're doing. This whole mission has been open to him-and through him, to Dagur!" she yelled. "Shortly after you called your Dad, Dagur's men turned up at the hotel room and emptied four machine guns into the room indiscriminately. If he and I had been in there, we would have been killed! And that's your fault!"

"Now come on…" he protested and made to grab at her but Hiccup cleared his throat and Snotlout recalled he was about to be executed by a professional hitman who-despite his own protestations-was the single most deadly shot Snotlout had ever encountered.

"Dagur was one step ahead of us all the way," the hitman confirmed coldly.

"Hey-I am an agent of Berk Homeland Security!" Snotlout replied indignantly, eyeing the gun angrily. "I didn't give away anything. I just reported to my superior officer like you all should have been doing…"

"No, only the _mission leader_ is meant to report-at specified times and giving only required information," Toothless growled. "This isn't a free-for-all where every soldier on a mission runs to tell tales to the superior officer every day! "

"Especially when the superior officer is your precious Daddy, who knows his son won't care for protocol or the chain of command," Fishlegs added.

"The question is-who is Daddy talking to?" Hiccup added, his icy emerald gaze boring into Snotlout's shocked gaze. "Any idea, muttonhead? Is there a leak in the department or is your Daddy a traitor?"

"How dare you?" Snotlout growled, momentarily forgetting about the gun trained at his head. "My father has served Berk all his life with distinction! His only mistake was…well, getting me into the service. I mean, I know it's not the best use of my skills even though I'm awesomely handsome and brave and amazingly awesome at undercover work and a fantastic shot and…"

"…and in reality, none of those," Hiccup commented sarcastically. "Wanna tell me why I don't kill you and send you back to your Daddy as a warning?"

"Because that's my service weapon and when they have dug the bullet out of his tiny brain and matched the striations, I would be blamed for the death," Astrid growled and Snotlout stared at her.

"What?" he squeaked.

"I could always retrieve the bullet after he's dead to ensure you aren't linked to the execution," Hiccup said coldly.

"WHAT?"

"That's very sweet," Astrid growled. "Okay. I have no further objections…"

"I DO!" Snotlout yelped desperately. "Look-all I did was what Dad asked! He didn't trust Astrid and he hated that Fury was free and not rotting in jail…"

"And yet, when he was sent off to jail, they weren't taking him to Hopeless but in completely the opposite way!" Astrid growled.

"I don't know anything about that!" Snotlout protested. "No one tells me anything! I mean, my Dad treats me like a muttonhead, you treat me like a muttonhead, Fish treats me like a muttonhead…"

"You _are_ a muttonhead!" Fishlegs said firmly.

"Jealous," Snotlout snapped. "But I don't know why you were sent the wrong way! Maybe there is some super-secret maximum security prison that you were meant to go to. I mean, you are a stone-cold killer and you just dispose of people like trash for money…" Hiccup lunged forward, the muzzle resting against Snotlout's forehead.

"Speaking of which…any last words?" he asked in a deadly whisper.

"I was only following orders!" Snotlout wailed.

Hiccup stilled, staring into the pale blue eyes of the stocky man facing him, reading fear and anger and utter desperation. Snotlout was lazy, unpleasant and irritating but he was an almost barely-adequate agent and he had played his part in the mission-albeit reluctantly. And he was doing what he had been ordered by his superior-his father-without question. He had never considered the consequences of his actions.

_But did I? My job was to follow orders and wipe out those my superiors said were to die. I followed orders and killed Oswald…and here were are…_

Flicking the safety on with a click, Hiccup pulled back, his eyes still pitiless.

"Well, now you are following _my_ orders," he told the stocky man. "T-disable his phone. Snotlout-if you contract your father without my express permission, I will gun you down where you sit. Your telling your Dad what we were doing meant Dagur always knew what was happening. He _played_ us. He played us all. And he was never going to be accessible. So we change our tack and you, Snotbrain, will do exactly what you are told or I will ensure your death is part of the plan. Understood?"

"Yes!" Snotlout's voice was a strangled whisper. "Can I go to the bathroom now?" Hiccup's nose wrinkled and he glanced down, seeing the wet patch.

"Phone," he demanded and allowed the man to slink off to clean himself up as he handed the device to Toothless. Then he slumped back onto the couch and closed his eyes. "Taron, pimp it. I know he'll get his hands on it eventually. I want to make sure he can't do any damage." The twins sat down on the couch, one on each side of him and they both hugged him. He just let them, because it was easier than trying to argue-even though Tuff gave him a sloppy, ketchupy kiss on the cheek.

"NF-you know you can rely on us, right?" he asked and the hitman nodded.

"Always you and T," he said.

"Hey!" Ruff protested.

"Plural you," Hiccup sighed. "You guys were there when I needed you most."

"And we'll always be with you," Ruff confirmed. "So what's the plan?"

"Fish-can you trace Dagur's call to Heather?" Astrid asked, watching the interaction. It was obvious Fury's friends were really close-and equally as worried about him. "It's going to be complex…and the man hides his location well, but he has to be somewhere…"

"So if he exists, I'll find him," Fishlegs vowed and then turned back to his computer.

"And preferably before Dagur finds us," Toothless murmured. "He knows you're alive, Fury." The emerald eyes snapped open as Hiccup smiled.

"That's what I'm banking on."

oOo

"I am making a formal complaint about Heather Oswaldson," the blonde said sharply to the Legal Services Office in Hysteria. The clerk looked up.

"Really?" she asked but the blonde folded her arms.

"She is violating the Ethical Code of the Berk, Berserk and Bog Bar Association," Astrid said flatly, seeing the clerk begin to look panicked. It was obvious he knew who Heather was-and who her brother was. It only fuelled her suspicions that any previous qualms about her practice had been conveniently lost in the office.

"Really?" the clerk asked, his high-pitched voice betraying his nervousness. Lazily, the agent flipped open her fake journalist ID and smiled.

"She is the sister and sole legal counsel for the known terrorist and enemy of the state, Dagur 'the Deranged' Oswaldson," she stated firmly. "He has claimed responsibility for the murders of hundreds of civilians in multiple attacks on soft targets, the most recent of which was Berk General Hospital in broad daylight. His illegal actions and his illegitimate businesses have been vigorously defended by Heather, even though it must be obvious their true purpose was anything but legal. And she has also managed his accounts-and in doing that, she has been filing fraudulent accounts to the Berk Revenue Services. She's a qualified accountant as well as lawyer and she must therefore be wholly aware of the illegal nature of the accounts she is submitting. Likewise, as a lawyer, she is clearly aware of the nature of the businesses she is defending."

"I really don't think…" the clerk protested. Astrid noted his name was 'A. Fungus' as she flipped out pictures of the women in cages.

"These are pictures supplied by BHS of a warehouse that Heather Oswaldson swore that she had visited and was just a fruit and vegetable storage facility," she spat. "As you can see, there were human beings held there in an appalling example of person trafficking and modern slavery."

The clerk took a deep breath and suddenly seemed to recover his composure. He riffled through his desk and pulled out a form that seemed to compose of sixteen pages.

"Please complete this complaint form in full and I will forward your concerns to the Compliance Office," he said flatly. "I am sure they will get back to you within 28 days per Bar Association Regulations…"

"No," Astrid said through gritted teeth.

"No?" The clerk had the temerity to raise an eyebrow at her flat refusal. "I am afraid the process…"

"No," she repeated more loudly. "I have already made my complaint…verbally, to you…" She slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out the small but powerful recording device. "And I have, of course, recorded the conversation. So you are going to complete whatever forms give you pleasure but you are going to forward the complaint to be investigated today. And I will receive acknowledgement that the investigation has started by the end of the day."

"I'm afraid that is not possible," Mr A Fungus said smoothly as Astrid gave a tight smile.

"Then I will have to ensure that everyone knows that the Berk, Berserk and Bog Bar Association is ineffective, corrupt and is basically a haven for crooks and people who support terrorism," she said evenly. "My Editor will publish the transcription of this conversation along with the evidence against Heather Oswaldson. We will let the public decide whether this crook should be allowed to masquerade as a lawyer and hide behind her supposed status to excuse her crimes in helping her terrorist, murderer, people-trafficker, gangster brother in continuing to ravage our society."

"You can't do that" Fungus protested. "That's slander…"

"No-it's facts," she said. "And freedom of the press covers a legitimate investigation into the incompetence, corruption and inertia of the Bar in failing to stop this crooked lawyer!"

"But…you can't…" Fungus was panicking. "You…"

She smiled as she rose to her feet.

"Remember…I want confirmation she is under investigation and is looking at suspension by tonight or everyone knows you're in her pocket!" she told him bluntly and then turned away. "I'll be waiting."

But she was smiling as she walked out…because she knew her friends were already ramping up the pressure…

oOo

"How's the website coming?" Hiccup asked, peering over Toothless's shoulder. Fishlegs was busy, chasing Dagur's location via his communications trail, leaving Hiccup's former handler to construct the website for the fake Magazine that Astrid used as cover- **_JORMUNGANDR, News that wraps around the world!_**

"Look, it's less complicated than making your pseudo-military website or sanitising your records," he admitted, his fingers dancing over the keyboard, his bright green eyes focussed on the screen through his glasses. "I need to lift some images from other news outlets to bolster our verisimilitude but of course, our main headline is…Heather."

"And we can be sure to forward it to the top investigative programmes," Hiccup added, seeing an image of Heather flash up. He grimaced at the sight of the cool green eyes that had flashed with such fury before she had sat down and watched her subordinate torture him. _You aren't innocent or remote from him, you bitch,_ he thought savagely. _Maybe at first…but you know damned well who he is and what he does now. You played me as well._

"You okay?" Toothless murmured as he glanced over to his friend. Hiccup had closed down since he had threatened to kill Snotlout and the handler had asked the twins to take the agent out on a sinecure just to give him time to talk to his friend. Hiccup looked over to Fishlegs-who was typing away furiously, an algorithm working furiously and an abstract pattern representing the search whirring across the screen. He wore a large pair of headphones with the distinct sounds of Handel's Water Music blaring out. And Fishlegs was humming along, a small smile on his round face.

"No," Hiccup said, sitting back on the couch and staring at Toothless's screen. "No-because this has just taken…everything I had left, Taron. All I can see now is Dagur's face, his eyes wild with hatred as he shot her…shot him. And I heard his voice and all I wanted to do was kill. To tear him apart with my bare hands. To make him suffer as I have suffered. As I am suffering. And he has taken so much from me…that now I can't see her face any more. I mean…I have my picture of them…but I can't see her smile any more. All I can see is her eyes widen as she was shot and her eyes close. And I can't even remember her smile…" His voice cracked. "Gods, I should have killed Snotlout…because he's stopping me killing Dagur. And I need to kill him. Or I'll never get her back…"

"I promise…I'll do whatever I can to make sure you get your shot," Toothless promised, lifting an image of a film star who had just split from her wife. "Hopefully before I die of celebrity overload…" He glanced over at Hiccup, who was slumped back on the couch. The man had fallen asleep, exhausted by his trials and grief. He knew the man didn't sleep well and his recent failure was making him despondent-and then Fishlegs swatted him.

"I think we have a problem with Dagur," he said quietly, his headphones pulled up onto his head like the horns of a Viking helmet. The handler frowned.

"Define problem?" he asked, his eyes glancing over to the screen.

"Military grade intel disrupting the trace," Fishlegs told him. "Ours, to be precise. I can get round it…but it will take time."

"Dagur is using BHS anti tracking algorithms?" he repeated. "And…you can get round them?"

"Um…yeah…I mean, I studied them when I started because there was always a scenario where an enemy got hold of our systems and used them against us…so I worked up a few scenarios and work-arounds when I started…because it always pays to be prepared…" Toothless smiled suddenly.

"You know, I think I can help…because I've spent the last two years working my way round and penetrating military systems," he grinned. "So between us…I am sure we can finally track him…provided you help me build this website…" Fishlegs grabbed his hand in both of his and grinned.

"It's a deal!" he squeaked. And then he frowned. "But how did he get them?"

"And who did he get them from?" Toothless asked.

oOo

Hiccup was still sleeping as Astrid returned from Hysteria, smiling with grim satisfaction as she came in at the expression on Fungus's face. Quietly, she walked in, seeing the two men working on the computers and she leaned over Toothless's shoulder, her eyebrows raising in approval at the site.

"I'm impressed," she said. "I'd apply for a job there." And she handed over her recorder. Fishlegs plugged it on for the transcribing programme.

"You already work for it!" he teased her as he eyes trailed over at the sleeping Hiccup. When he was asleep, the anger and bitterness dropped from his face and he looked younger, more vulnerable and handsome. Something in Astrid-the woman who had helped him escape and had hugged the badly tortured man for a brief moment because he needed some human comfort, not the agent-reminded her that he was a hero, a man who served her country and didn't deserve the horrors that had taken his family and almost his life. He didn't deserve any of this…and because he had been betrayed, he couldn't trust them. But the truth was…she trusted him. He did what he said-usually far more impressively than she could have imagined.

"Is he okay?" she asked in a low voice. Toothless shook his head.

"All he's got left is his revenge," he reminded her. "He's broken. Losing his father was the last thing he had left…" She sat on the end of the bed, folding a leg under her, and she stared at him. He snored gently.

"He really loved his wife, didn't he," she said softly. "And he wants to join her." Toothless stared at her in shock: he wouldn't have guessed she was actually that sensitive. "His wife worked for the shelter that helped my sister. I know who she is-and I saw a picture of her son. His son. Look-I'm an agent of BHS and my job is to stop Dagur-and this is the reason why he has to be stopped. Because he kills innocents without mercy, he enslaves helpless women, he murders and destroys. And somewhere…someone helped him do it…because he couldn't have found Hiccup on his own."

"Even if the trail leads to the department?" Toothless asked him thoughtfully.

"Or higher," she added. "Snotlout was right: Spitelout is an ass but he follows orders. Sure, he's over-promoted his son and hates Fury because he's a hitman…but someone enabled Dagur to find out who killed his father. And Spitelout doesn't have a high enough security clearance to access that intelligence or deploy ASS."

"So who does?" Toothless asked. Casting a worried look at Fishlegs, she chewed her lip.

"Head of Military Special Ops and Intelligence, Cabinet and President," she said grimly. "Whoever did this…it goes right to the top."

oOo

"And on _Eye on Berserk_ tonight, we present a scandal of colossal proportions!"

[Head shot of Heather Oswaldson with ominous music overlay].

"My name is Ushi Dagmarson and this is Heather Oswaldson. And over the next half hour, we will show just how corrupt, depraved and evil this woman is as she assists her murderous, people-trafficking, arms- and drug-dealing brother stay in business and continue to terrorise and abuse the people of Berserk!"…

Snotlout sat back and drained his can.

"Do we have to watch this?" he whined, crumpling the metal and tossing it expertly into the bin. The twins were barbecuing ribs in the shower and Astrid was sitting determinedly beside Hiccup, frowning as she listened to the report.

"How did you swing this?" she asked Fishlegs as the husky agent blushed.

"I know Ushi from the 'Carnivorous Plants Club," he explained. "I swapped her a Sumatran Pitcher Plant for a Devil's Sundew a couple of years ago and we've been friends ever since…so she was very keen to get her hands on the scoop…"

"Fishface has got a girlfriend…" Snotlout sneered as Hiccup absently grabbed the ashtray and threw it at him. The stocky agent yelped as it knocked him off the seat.

"You are so going to regret that!" Snotlout threatened from the floor.

"I already am," Hiccup grumbled lightly. "I was aiming to shut you up." Astrid cast him a glance and smiled.

"Breaking his jaw is probably the only way," she admitted.

"Anyone want ribs?" Ruff asked, poking her head around the door with smoke billowing out. "Umm…we only have smoky barbecue flavour…"

"And onions!" Tuff yelled from the shower room.

"Who has onions on ribs?" his sister asked him.

"I would," Snotlout said from the floor. Toothless stared at the screen, his eyes widening.

"I think we've got him," he murmured. Head snapping round, Hiccup stared at him in shock.

"What?" he mouthed as Snotlout and Ruffnut continued to argue about the correct toppings for ribs. Toothless swung his chair round to face them.

"I've found Dagur," he said as the door swung open and three men filled the doorway. Savage walked forward in the middle, his gun levelled at Hiccup as his companions covered the others with their machine guns. The hitman's emerald eyes narrowed in recognition as as he stared at the man who had tortured him.

"You're looking well for a dead man," he sneered. "Come with me. Heather and Dagur want a word…before they kill you."


	15. Monster

**Fifteen: Monster**

Time slowed and for Hiccup Haddock, former First Lieutenant in Berk Special Forces (Blacks Ops Division) and now the hitman known as Night Fury, every detail sharpened to crystal clarity. He could almost count the stubble on Savage's chin and where he had once worn a moustache, he could see the sweat suddenly beading Snotlout's broad and shocked face; he could hear the slightest creak as Astrid tensed, her fists balling as she took a sharp intake of breath, ready for action…and he could smell the burning of meat on the barbecue and the acrid scent of smoke. And he could see Dagur's men tensing their fingers on the triggers of the weapons.

"And why should I come with you?" he asked dryly. Savage lurched forward, his pale brown eyes furious.

"Because you made me look like an idiot and I want to make you scream before you die," he hissed.

"Not really selling the dream there," Hiccup deadpanned back. Savage almost jabbed the muzzle of his gun in the hitman's still-bruised face.

"And I won't kill your friends if you come quietly," he breathed. "In fact, we'll bring them along so they can watch…"

"Not sure I really want to watch…" Snotlout muttered, earning a kick from one of the henchmen.

"Not sure I want an audience either," Hiccup added. Savage sneered at him.

"I can kill them now-starting with her…" he threatened, swinging the gun round to point right between Astrid's eyes.

_Astrid's beautiful sea-blue eyes, almost the mirror of Cami's…_

"No!" he jumped in too quickly even for his ears. "No-I'll come…just leave them alone…" Deliberately, he brushed his hand against hers, pulling her close and wrapping his arms around her. "Play along," he murmured under his breath, one hand digging into her hair an the other pressing her body hard against his, kissing her firmly as her hands slid down his back-and finding the gun in the back on his waistband. He felt her slide it out as he kissed her, his arms wrapped tightly around her, obscuring the small motion as she slid the gun into her own clothing.

Savage hauled her back and grasped her face in his hand, staring into her shocked eyes and leering.

"Hmm. Maybe I can have a piece of you myself, girl…once Dagur's killed him," he breathed. She head-butted him.

"I'll neuter you first," she spat as Hiccup leapt forward.

"Whoa…very feisty, Milady…but we don't want to do anything rash. _I need you with me_ ," he said in a firm voice, his emerald eyes locking with hers. There was a silent plea- _play along_ -and she lowered her eyes slightly in acknowledgement that she would help him. Then she plunged forward, wrapping her arms around him again and pressing a quick kiss on his mouth.

"Be careful," she murmured. "We'll come for you." He smiled.

"Take care," he said as Savage gestured with the pistol..and as Hiccup walked past, he cracked the hitman over the head with the weapon. As he collapsed, Astrid gasped before she and the others were rounded up. Fish, Toothless, Snotlout and Ruffnut reluctantly exited the room but when the henchman opened the shower room, all they found was a barbecue with some burnt ribs, incinerated onions and a thick cloud of smoke, billowing in their faces. There was no sign of anyone else.

Spraying the room with his machine gun for good measure, the man emerged with a nasty grin and followed his friend with their prisoners…

oOo

The van roared along the roads of Berserk, seemingly deliberately hitting every pothole. Snotlout was sitting with his back to the cab, grumbling while Ruffnut was staring at the door, an unreadable expression on her face.

"Where is he?" she muttered, the tone tight with worry. Watching her, Astrid realised how close the pair were and she leaned forward.

"They didn't find him," she reassured the female twin. "They would have brought him otherwise…"

"I know that!" Ruff snarked. "But he's an idiot and he'll likely get himself killed if I'm not there to stop him…"

"Or he could be following us to rescue us," Toothless suggested.

"Yeah-in a camper van packed with weapons and explosives…and he drives like an idiot!" Ruff finished glumly. "He'll probably end up spread over three counties!"

"Fish-at least you could try to unlock the door," Astrid told him in an exasperated voice. The husky agent gave her a panicked look.

"I'm having a moment here!" he squeaked.

"Fish-I know you've got your tools on you. You carry them everywhere-even to bed!" Astrid told him sternly.

"How-how do you know that?" the big agent squeaked.

"I have my sources…"

"Snotlout….!"

"Hey…you know that's not normal, right?" the stocky agent commented superiorly.

"I could have left it on the bench when we were captured…" Fishlegs protested.

"No-you have a spare!" Astrid told him. The husky agent looked self-conscious.

"How did you know that?" he protested.

"Open the bloody door!" Astrid snapped. "They're taking us away from Hiccup-and they're going to kill us. Hiccup will be taken to Dagur and executed-and he asked us to help him…"

"But…" Fishlegs protested as she hauled the gun out from under her blouse.

"Look-Fury is a man who wants to avenge his dead wife and child…do you think he would be eating my face if he wasn't sending me a message?" she snapped. "Open the door-I'll do the rest. Because I made a promise." Ruff and Toothless shared a look and nodded.

"You get us control of the van and we can track Fury," the handler reminded her, his bright green eyes narrowing. "He's tagged with a tracker and I made sure knows it…"

"Hey babe-I still want you if that skinny murderer doesn't want a relationship…" Snotlout put in-and Astrid was shocked as Ruff punched him out. Giving a whine of protest, Snotlout slid down to the floor and passed out. In moments, Fishlegs had the door open and Astrid was out, looking up and grasping the door frame, then swarming up and crawling precariously along the roof of the van…until she reached just above the driver. Suddenly, she threw herself sideways as a couple of bullets punched through the roof of the cabin-but she was already swinging round, slamming feet-first through the window and knocking the driver sideways. He crashed into the passenger, who jerked into he door, bursting it open. Before either man could try to grab her, a brace of shots rang out and the henchmen stopped resisting. Deliberately, Astrid lifted a foot and shoved the driver and passenger through the open passenger door, then turned sharply left then right and caused the door to slam closed.

She drove along for a few minutes, checking the mirrors and finally, she pulled over. They were in an evergreen forest, spruce and fir rising up into the grey, damp sky above them, the air heavy with the scents of damp earth and bracken. Pulling to a halt, she slammed her fist on the metal plate behind her, letting her friends know it was safe. She heard the door creak and they appeared at the window, Fishlegs' face relieved, Snotlout's annoyed and Ruff and Toothless looking impressed.

"I think you could give Fury a run for his money," Ruff commented as an engine approached and the camper van screeched up. "That was seriously badass, Astrid!" Tuff jumped out and hugged her fiercely.

"Are you okay?" he asked and his twin nodded, trying not to look relieved.

"And you didn't crash the van," she replied gratefully.

"Yeah…sorry, I can try harder next time…but I had to focus because I stopped to grab your computers and things…" he explained as Toothless and Fishlegs shared a relieved look and dashed into the camper van, finding all their equipment-plus the barbecue-in there, safely stowed.

"How did they know?" Toothless demanded, his face dark with anger-and then he advanced on Snotlout. "You! You told them!"

"What? No-I didn't tell anyone!"

"Except your Dad," Astrid snarked.

"Well-of course…but then, he's the Director so he needs to know where we are…"

"Except…no one has ever got near to Dagur…almost certainly because he has a direct line into the Security Services that are trying to trap him and is always one step ahead…" Toothless commented, rebooting his laptop.

"And we should have moved, once we realised we were compromised…" Astrid said savagely. "It was my fault…I mean, I was in command. Hiccup was injured, Snotlout is a muttonhead, Fish wouldn't consider operational factors and you…trusted to your anonymity…"

"Harsh, Ast," Tuff commented, folding his arms.

"But pretty much on the money," Ruff reminded him.

"Well, yes, but…"

"And she did call Snotlout a muttonhead," the female twin reminded him.

"Well, anyone can see that…"

"And Fishlegs-gorgeous though he is-isn't really an outdoorsy type and a field agent," Ruff commented, winking at the suddenly-blushing husky agent.

"Gorgeous?" he mouthed. She grinned.

"Yup-lardass alarm went off over there," Tuff admitted.

"And we don't pay much attention…"

"I was perfecting my smoky marinade…" Tuff protested.

"And NF was hurt," she reminded him.

"And now he's captured…" the male twin replied. There was a pause.

"Got him," Toothless commented. "I…oh Gods…"

"What?" Astrid was instantly on alert at the horrified tone. Toothless looked up.

"Fenrir Wood," the handler said and the twins gasped as well.

"What?" Astrid demanded. There was pity and anger in the dark-haired man's green eyes.

"It was the place where it all happened," he said in a dead voice. "It was the place where his wife and child died."

oOo

His eyes snapped open but remained still as he had learned over long hours on surveillance, watching and waiting for his shot. His hands were tied firmly in front of his waist and he could feel the plastic ties biting deep into his bony wrists and he took a deep breath, realising there was no way he could undo the ties.

"Welcome back," Savage sneered, his eyes sweeping over the prisoner from the rear view mirror. "Thought you'd sleep the whole journey." Blinking to clear his vision, Hiccup fashioned a lazy smile.

"Better than the company," he commented. "I mean-you guys are really the most uninteresting people in the history of bad guys…"

"Hey!" the driver protested. He was an average man, relatively buff with jug ears and thick brows. "I play the flute and am an ornithologist."

"See?" Hiccup sassed, his eyes locked on Savage. The man was scowling.

"What do you mean by _bad guys_?" he snapped.

"And I work in the Berserk animal shelter and help visit the homeless at nights," the big bald buy sitting next to Hiccup said, his high-pitched voice grating. The man had bandaged wrists and hands-presumably from the explosion the twins had caused in the Berserk Townhouse. Raising an eyebrow, Hiccup spared him a brief glance and categorised him as simple but obedient-and thus easy to outwit but dangerous in close combat.

"Shut up, Berthel!" Savage snapped. "Why do you think we're the bad guys when you abused our trust?"

"Oh, let me see…you people shoot and kill anyone who opposes you, you demand protection, you planned to kill the other gangs who tried to move in, you force women into prostitution and hold them captive, you deal in drugs and guns, you corrupt politicians, you cheat your taxes, you steal and threaten and are a complete blight on society!"

" _Apart_ from that?" Savage persisted.

"You tortured me," Hiccup said in an icy tone.

"You abused Miss Heather's trust," Savage retorted.

"And Dagur abused mine," the hitman shot back.

"Well, you're getting your wish…" Savage sneered, pulling out his knife and toying with the blade. "Dagur is going to meet you. In person. In fact, we're almost there…" Glancing out of the window, Hiccup felt his stomach flip: they were in the middle of a spruce forest, the trees rising into the grey sky, the dying bracken and brambles and memories flashed back across his mind…

_"_ _Dagur -you leave them alone!" he had grunted, earning himself another blow. "I'm the one you want. Deal with me…"_

_"_ _I intend to," the Berserker sneered. "You killed my father. You attacked my family. It would be rude not to repay the favour."_

_"_ _You bastard!" He barely recognised his own voice, hoarse and filled with hatred._

_"_ _Any last words, murderer?" Dagur taunted him._

_"_ _Let them go! Leave them alone. For the Gods' sake-your problem is with me! Keep this between us… They aren't involved! They're innocent…"_

_"_ _Then after this, no one will ever dare cross me again," Dagur breathed. "How does it feel, knowing you caused this? That all these deaths will be on you?" He nodded. "Do it."_

_"_ _NO!"_

_And then the shots sounded and amid the screams that abruptly cut out, he heard his own voice as the bullet ripped into his back…and it all went dark…_

"We're here…" Savage said and Hiccup forced everything from his mind. He was running out of time, deep in a forest and restrained. And though all he needed was one shot, two seconds of time and a clear view of the man…he had a sick feeling he wouldn't be granted even that. And though he was resigned to dying on this mission-he was on borrowed time anyways-he didn't want to perish without making Dagur pay for his crimes.

But as they pulled off the road onto a muddy track, he felt his pulse accelerate and all he could feel was despair.

oOo

"Dad? It's me."

" _I know who you are, boyo._ " Spitelout's voice was impatient. " _Why are you calling me now?_ "

"Well, I kind of hoped you wanted to hear from your only son…" Snotlout's tone was hurt.

" _Of course I do, boyo-but I do have other things I need to do. Got a department to run, threats to foil, criminals to catch, traitors to stop…_ "

"Yeah, I get it, Dad-but we've got a bit of a situation. Dagur's people bust into our motel room and captured us. We're being taken somewhere-it looks like a forest-and we think we're going to be killed. We will try to get away…but we need to know how they found us."

" _That will be that damned murderer you took on the mission…_ "

"Hey! That was Astrid, not me!" Snotlout's protest had risen above a hiss and he cupped his hand over his mouth, hunching to try to look as if he wasn't phoning the Director of BHS. "But I don't think he gave anything up, Dad. He's an ass-but a brave one."

" _Then you must have been careless,_ " the Director told him briskly. " _I'll send back-up to get you out of there. Where are you?_ "

"We're heading along a little road just east of the village of Neurosis towards Delirium," Snotlout reported. "I think I can see a big house in the distance…looks like we're heading there."

" _On it,_ " Spitelout said. " _You keep your head down, boyo and let the others get in the way. They're expendable-my son isn't…_ "

"We're all agents," Snotlout protested, his thick brows dipping.

" _But you're marked for greatness, son-so you keep your head down and let the other cannon-fodder take the bullets. I will come for you-okay?_ "

"Thanks, Dad-see you soon?"

" _On my way. Keep your chin up, boyo-Jorgensens don't know the meaning of fear!_ " And he rung off.

"Or loyalty," Snotlout muttered, glaring at his phone. "At least you don't…these are my friends…"

"Did he buy it?" Astrid asked, folding her arms. Snotlout nodded.

"He says he'll send back-up," he reported sulkily. "And he asked me to hang back and let the rest of you get shot. He thinks I'm too important to take part in any fighting…" Fishlegs stared at him but Snotlout was curiously angry. "I mean, I know he thinks I'm a muttonhead…"

"Like everyone else in the Archipelago Lands," Ruff commented.

"…but I am an agent and I can look after myself! I mean, I may not be as smart as Fish or have such anger-management problems as Astrid but I am strong, great at unarmed combat, an awesome shot…"

"…though not a patch on Fury or Astrid," Fish added.

"…and I am a proper agent! I mean, I even passed the entrance exam for the Academy!" Snotlout's voice had risen in indignation.

"Only because they dropped the pass mark to 18%" Fish told him.

"WHAT?"

"Yup-usually the pass mark is 51% but when you applied, they dropped it to 18% once you sat your paper and only scored 18%," the husky agent told him with a malicious smirk.

"WHAT? But they must have seen my other scores compensated for it…so they had to have me, right?"

"Nope. Your other scores were average-except your fitness, which was definitely in the top 5%…" Fishlegs continued. There was a pause.

"So what do we do?" There was a steel in the stocky agent's voice.

"Well, if we're right, there won't be any back-up…but they will expect us to be killed by our captors before we can do anything," Toothless said firmly. "There is a leak in the department. So we use that to our advantage…"

"And first…we go get Fury," Tuff said, his arms folded. Everyone stared at him. "What? Wasn't that the point? The poor guy has suffered enough and he wanted Astrid to rescue him. He doesn't think he'll get the chance at Dagur now…and we have his weapon for him."

"Weapon?" Astrid frowned.

"A Valkyrie Sniper Rifle," Ruff explained with a nostalgic smile. "Odin, he's so good with that thing, he can shoot the antennae off an ant at a hundred metres!"

"Gods," she murmured, recalling the images they had seen of his antics during the car chase. "Where is he?"

"East," Toothless said.

"We'll take the van," Astrid said. "They may allow us closer, assuming we're friendlies…" Toothless nodded and scrambled into the back of the Camper Van.

"What the Helheim is this chicken doing in here?" he yelled as the door slammed shut but Astrid was already sprinting for the van. Fishlegs was running more slowly, holding his laptop open while Snotlout was bringing up the rear, looking as if he was thinking hard.

"Can you find him?" she asked as the husky agent scrambled into the middle of the driver's cabin.

"T gave me the frequency and access codes," he reported as Snotlout got in and slammed the door.

"Why does no one like me?" the stocky young man demanded. Astrid rolled her eyes as she started the engine and accelerated away, slewing the van round and roaring back up the road they had come, the Camper Van bouncing along after them.

"Because you're lazy, entitled, selfish, arrogant, stupid and you don't respect the chain of command or more experienced and skilled officers," she told him bluntly.

"Oh. Apart from that…why does no one like me?"

"Oh Gods," Astrid muttered.

oOo

The car stopped in the middle of the forest and Hiccup found himself hauled out and shoved along, covered by guns wielded by three jumpy henchmen, convincing him that any false move would end him. He needed to bide his time. But even that thought left his mind when he was pushed into a horribly familiar clearing, facing a shape that haunted his nightmares, flanked by four men.

"You're looking good for a dead man," Dagur said.

The man was as Hiccup recalled: a powerful, buff shape with muscular shoulders and arms, a broad chest and square face with Roman nose. The man's short hair was carrot red and spiky, shaved at the back and his pale green eyes were narrowed with anger. There was an unfamiliar scar all over the right cheek and his formerly manicured beard was rough and stubbly. The three wide 'claw mark' tattoos over his left eye, though, matched the man who had walked through his cross-hairs…and pulled the trigger, destroying Hiccup's family.

"Well, I guess that's down the the incompetence of the people trying to kill me," he said grimly, staring directly into Dagur's eyes. "I mean…your men…what can I say? Couldn't kill a fly that was taped down. And you…can't even shoot an unarmed man in the back properly."

"What the…?" Dagur said, his eyes confused-and then he walked forward and grabbed Hiccup's face in his hand, lifting his chin up and peering into the bruised features. "Gods…" he breathed and shoved the prisoner back, causing him to drop to his knees. "You!" he spat. "I'd know your face anywhere! Did you have ay idea how long I stared at your picture, memorising it so I would recognise the man who murdered my father…"

"I was authorised to take out a man who was plotting against the President, who had thwarted all efforts to arrest him…" Hiccup spat. "And you are the murderer. You've killed innocents just for fun!"

"Not for fun," Dagur snapped and then paused. "Well, not completely for fun. But the government ordered my Dad killed-so why shouldn't everyone pay? You don't mess with Dagur…"

"Well, your Townhouse is a smoking ruin and your record on killing me is really poor so…not impressed here," Hiccup sassed back, watching the man's face fold in fury. He leaned down and grabbed an item, tossing it at Hiccup. It was a shovel.

"Start digging," Dagur yelled.

"Why would I want to do that?" the auburn-haired man asked.

"Because I want you to dig your own grave this time-and believe me…this time, you won't escape it!" the gangster snarled.

"And if I refuse?" Dagur pulled his gun.

"Then I shoot your kneecaps off and continue to hurt you until you dig the hole," he snapped. "You really only need your arms to dig a hole…" Eyeing him warily, Hiccup grabbed the shovel and slowly got to his feet, then dug the tool into the damp, mossy ground, removing a shovelful of damp, black earth…

_So he moved his arm, gradually teasing the grains of soil apart and worming his way up until his hand broke the surface. Time meant nothing as he slowly teased the soil away, gradually moving his other arm until he was pushing soil aside. Every motion tore at the wound in his back and even though he knew he was buried, he could feel his breathing grow more painful and harder. If he didn't get help soon, he was going to die anyway. And that was enough to give him a final burst of energy that had him pulling his broken body up, through the hole he had dug out of his own grave._

Dagur's men backed up a pace, their eyes watching him closely-even simple Berthel, who was holding a pump action shotgun, though Hiccup was certain he wouldn't be able to use it with his hand injuries. His back twinged with phantom pain, for the bullet wound had long healed-though it had left a scar. And he methodically dug the hole, a shallow grave that Dagur intended to put him in…permanently. The soil was wet and heavy, landing with a loud splat every time he heaved another shovelful out of the ground. The only sounds were the shovel cutting through the earth and his heavy breaths as he sweated over his task. Finally, Dagur looked up.

"Bored now," he said, passing his hand over his face and transforming his bored expression into one of infinite menace. "You've lived long enough. On your knees, murderer!" Hiccup slowly dropped to his knees, the shovel inches from his hand. He looked up flatly.

"You are the murderer," he said. "I was just following orders. If an opponent's man killed one of yours, you wouldn't go after his family-you would accept it as an act of a soldier in a war. Why was I different?" Dagur's expression flattened and went feral.

"Because my father wasn't to die," he hissed. "We were promised protection! We were promised…everything. You shouldn't have ever got close." Breathing hard, Hiccup looked up into his face, now suffused with rage and gave a small smile.

"And yet you cower back," he taunted the man. "You missed last time. Maybe you need to be a little closer to kill me? Or aren't you capable of avenging Daddy? Maybe we should get your sister to come in a do your job for you?"

Dagur lurched forward, almost standing in the freshly dug grave as he leaned forward and pressed the muzzle of his pistol hard against Hiccup's forehead.

"I'm not missing this time," he breathed.


	16. Hunter and Prey

**Sixteen: Hunter and Prey**

The cold pressure of the muzzle against his skin stilled Hiccup, his emerald gaze locked on Dagur's rabid feral glare. He could see the slight twitch of the muscles around the man's right eye, smell his rank breath and felt the caress of his breath on his skin.

"Really?" Hiccup breathed. "Maybe you should be asking…how we got to you in the first place? Who's the mole in your organisation?"

"My men are loyal!" Dagur hissed, jabbing the gun harder against his skin. Hiccup forced himself to give a lazy smile.

"Keep telling yourself that," he smirked as Dagur's hand jerked.

"Thanks for the advice," he said in a brittle voice. "I'll consider it…once we've buried your corpse…"

"Glad to help," Hiccup said sarcastically. "You think you can actually kill me? Maybe you need outside help? Or maybe I'm already dead?" There was a pause-just for a fraction of a second as Dagur tried to process the insane words-and in that moment, Hiccup's fingers closed round the shovel and he threw himself sideways as the tool slammed round, clanging against Dagur's skull. The gun went off, the bullet just whiffling past Hiccup's ear and the report rolling round his skull like a knife. Dagur slumped backwards into the grave as Hiccup dug the shovel into the waste pile and sprayed a shovelful of earth at the henchmen even as he dived forward and snatched Dagur's gun. Before he even hit the ground, he was spinning, the gun firing as he locked on the nearest two men. There were the cries of impacts and he could smell blood over the damp earth.

But the men recovered quicker than he had guessed they would and he heard the first shots as he rolled, mud and moss smeared over his body as he reached his knees. He fired another three shots and two men went down but bullets whipped around him and he dived back behind the nearest tree. He snapped off a couple more shots, regained his breath and heard Dagur screaming in rage.

"What are you waiting for? KILL HIM!"

Firing over his shoulder, the hitman sprinted off into the woods, the damp drizzle coalescing into a clammy light fog, every surface becoming slick. It wasn't that easy to run with your wrists tied but Hiccup was willing to give it every go as he sprinted through the bracken, brambles slashing at his legs and almost tripping him up. He stumbled and bullets shredded the tree trunk above his head, Snatching a shocked look over his shoulder, he twisted and snapped off a couple more shots before putting all his energies into running for his life.

_…_ _don't run in a straight line, use available cover, hunch to present a smaller target. Be unpredictable! And never stop…_

But his breath was burning in his chest and the sickening click as he realised his gun was empty told the hitman that he was running out of time. He ducked sideway, zigzagging through the trees, hurdling brambles and keeping his head down. But the shots were getting closer…

oOo

"We can't get any closer," Toothless told them over Fishlegs's phone which was on speaker. "The forest is far too dense."

"Where is he?" Astrid asked, opening the door.

"Heading east-fast…" Fishlegs reported. "I think he's running…"

"And of course, everyone will be on his tail," Tuff added over the speaker.

"Patch his locator to my phone," Astrid commanded, tightening her braid and shoving her sleeves up. "We need to intercept."

"We?"

"Snot and I…unless anyone else wants to help?" she said.

"I'm coming," Toothless said immediately, followed by the twins. "He needs people there who are on his side."

"And I'm not?" Astrid asked. There was an awkward pause.

"I think he's not sure about you…in all ways," Ruff said in a quiet voice. "You stir too many memories of Cami. And you are pretty badass…"

"Thanks…I think," she replied after a second as she walked towards the Camper Van. "I need you to give me the gun."

"What gun?" Tuff asked, poking his head out of the driver's window.

"His gun. The sniper one."

"You want us to give you Fury's Valkyrie?" Ruff asked incredulously. Tuff gaped.

"Dude-that's like asking us to give you his…"

"Prospects…" Ruff finished.

"But you're going to do it anyway," the blonde agent told her shortly. "I need to give him some cover and that thing can cover Fury from a far greater distance than our handguns."

"But you're not a sniper," Tuff protested.

"No-but I'm Berkian," she reminded him "I've been shooting and hunting since I was old enough to pick up a gun. And I do have expert rating-and have since I was fifteen-in pistols and rifles." The twins shared a look-and then slowly nodded. Toothless emerged from the Camper, a long gun-case in his hand. He took a deep breath and then unzipped it-to hand the sleek and very high tech rifle to her.

"It's specified for Fury-who's taller and has a longer reach than you," he told her firmly. "And it's heavy." Confidently, she grasped it a then gripped the magazine, checking it was fully loaded and then clipping it back into place. Slinging the rifle over her shoulder, she looked at Toothless.

"Can we have a gun for Snot?" she asked. "He may be an idiot but he is a qualified marksman as well."

"Hey! But…thanks…" The stocky agent's voice was grateful that he was being included. Ruff and Tuff emerged and handed a pistol to him as Fishlegs poked his head out of the van window.

"I'll keep you updated over the coms," he promised. "But you better go!" Nodding, Astrid took a deep breath, her game face on-and then she sprinted off, leaving the others staring after her-and then realising they ought to follow. But Astrid already had a lead, checking on her phone and seeing where Hiccup was and altering her course to an intercept bearing. The forest was gloomy and damp, the drizzle making her hair start to stick to her head as she headed towards the crack of shots. Swiping her face, she hurdled brambles and found a small track, speeding ahead and closing on the red dot that was beeping swiftly across her screen.

And then she saw a flash of movement ahead, just to the left of her field of view, glimpsing a flash of auburn. Hiccup was ahead and running for his life, ducking and weaving as he tried to avoid being gunned down. She slowed and wrestled the Valkyrie from her back, seeing a stump ahead and using the object as a pivot and peered through the sights. Ahead, she could see the lanky shape of Hiccup, running between the trees-and behind him, Dagur's men were running and firing. Pressing her lips together, she slid a bullet into the chamber, lined up on one of the pursuers and squeezed the trigger.

The kick was a bitch but the man went down, blood spraying from his shoulder. Her eyes widened in shock and the pursuers slowed. Emboldened, she loaded again and fired-but missed the man completed, blasting a chunk out of the slender pine trunk behind him. He ducked and the men ran on. Cursing, she swung round, saw Hiccup glance in her direction and frown-and then ducked wildly as a bullet just missed him. Swinging the sights round, she saw the man, lowering his gun-and she loaded and fired again, this time dropping the man efficiently. And then she was up, the gun over her back and sprinting towards the fleeing hitman.

Snotlout saw the man running towards her and diverted towards his left, raising his gun and firing a volley of shots that winged the man. Yelling, he accelerated forward and finally managed to kill the man with his sixth shot.

"Boom! And that's how it's done," he growled, peering at the others and then diving under a patch of brambles as another henchman came looking, finding his dead comrade.

"He's got friends," the henchman growled into his com and turned, heading back towards the pursuit. Snotlout rolled out and shot him in the back, feeling not one jot of guilt at seeing the man fall.

"Yup-but you don't-not any more," he commented and then headed back to the pursuit.

The twins passed Astrid as she was using the Valkyrie and frowned in shock as she hit a couple of men. Tuff's eyes widened and he tripped over a patch of brambles.

"Thor-I think she may even be a match for him," he commented as his sister panted along at his side, grabbing his hand and hauling him up without even breaking stride.

"Which would be a great thing…if his heart wasn't already buried in this forest," she reminded him.

Up ahead, Hiccup's eyes widened and he snapped a look over his shoulder at the unmistakeable sounds of the Valkyrie firing. And he saw two men go down and glanced at his pursuers. They were continuing regardless. Groaning, he veered right towards the sounds of the Valkyrie. Bullets ripped into the trees around him and he ducked, almost tripping over a bramble. And then he gaped as two blonde shapes appeared from the undergrowth, blasting away furiously at the pursuers. Stumbling past, the twins grinned.

"How's it going, NF?" Tuff asked with a broad grin, firing away wildly.

"What the Helheim?" he spluttered as Toothless appeared, firing away at the pursuers and then ducked down. And then he stopped and saw Astrid pop up, the Valkyrie hugged snugly to her shoulder and she froze-then fired three times. He saw her wing two men and then he staggered forward, stumbling to a halt by her. Blue eyes flicked up and her face filled with a smile.

"What kept you?" she asked and he took a shuddering breath.

"I had to dig a grave," he told her roughly. "My own." He gestured towards the gun. "And I think that's mine…" She rose to her feet and held it out.

"You're welcome," she said gratefully. "She kicks like a bitch!" He held his bound wrists up and Tuff scampered forward, fishing out an improbable pair of wire cutters which made short work of the plastic tie. He sighed in relief, shaking his hands to get the circulation going and rubbing the bright red weals around his wrists-and then he grasped the rifle.

The expression on his face softened and a small smile lifted his lips. A visible change came over him as he nestled the butt of the stock into his left shoulder, his right hand delicately but firmly supporting the barrel and his head tilted very slightly as his emerald eyes focussed down the sights. Mesmerised, Astrid watched as he dropped to one knee and smiled-and then fired. A man fell. Three more shots and three more men fell.

And suddenly there were no more pursuers. Scanning the trees, Hiccup couldn't see any sign of Dagur and he grimaced.

"Are you okay, Hiccup?" Toothless asked gently, pausing by him.

"He got away," the hitman said in a dead voice, the Valkyrie cradled tenderly in his arms.

"He was going to kill you," Astrid guessed, seeing the faint mark on his forehead. "He made you dig your own grave…" He nodded absently, standing up unevenly.

"He didn't shoot me this time," he said quietly, the muzzle of the rifle hovering over the ground. Holstering her pistol in her waistband, Astrid looked up into his face, seeing the pain in his emerald eyes and she gently reached out then paused, her hand hesitating inches from his. His stance, the expertise with which he held the weapon and his broken look in his face reminded her that this was a man with a dark and complex past. But he was in pain. She closed the last few inches.

His emerald eyes widened very slightly as her hand rested on his and for a second his head dipped as if he was just savouring the touch, relishing the feel of another human being offering contact, comfort. And then his lips twitched with the slightest smile and he looked up.

"I'm really glad you came," he commented. "All of you. But you need to use softer hands." She frowned, suddenly lost.

"I…what?" she mouthed.

"The rifle. You were tense and your wrists were tense as well. It caused your aim to pull," he told her calmly.

"I…thanks," she acknowledged with a small smile, "but I think I may be leaving any more shooting to the expert." He gave a sight nod…and then staggered. Toothless was instantly at his side, supporting him as his head dipped again. The Valkyrie dropped to the ground.

"Dagur?" he asked hoarsely as his friend propped him up.

"Long gone," Snotlout reported, running up. "As his men started to fall, he turned back with a couple. I saw them speed off in a big black Jeep."

"We gotta…" Hiccup murmured but Toothless's hand tightened around his arm.

"It's okay," his friend soothed him. "We know where he is. We've got him. And now…we can take our time and do this thing right." Hiccup nodded, his eyelids dropping.

"Thanks, Taron," he murmured. "It's been a long day…" And then he slumped, unconscious.

oOo

His eyes snapped open and he sat up with a gasp-to see Toothless sitting at the tiny table with a mug of coffee in his hand, his eyes scanning the screen of his laptop.

"Welcome back," the handler said. Blinking and running his fingers through his wild auburn hair, Hiccup winced as he met the lump on his head from where he had been clubbed unconscious. "You looked like you needed that."

"Miracle I don't have brain damage from the number of times I get hit over the head," he grumbled.

"Nah-your head is _waaaay_ too thick for that to be a concern…" Toothless smirked as Hiccup swung his legs slowly over the side of the bed and jumped down. The whole van lurched.

"Where are we heading?' Hiccup asked, staggering into the second seat and gratefully accepting a coffee.

"Hysteria…and his Country Retreat…which I think is far better protected than the first," Toothless informed him, demonstrating on the screen. "But at the end of the day, we have three BHS agents, the best sniper and hitman around, me and the twins…"

"That should be enough," Hiccup said. "Do we have a plan?"

"Three pronged attack," the handler explained, pulling up a graphic. "Astrid will be with you-and you will cover the retreat and cause general chaos and mayhem while the others go in. Fishlegs and Snotlout will gather intel and drain their system dry then wipe it while the twins will mine the place to blow it to Helheim. Once they're concerned with what we're doing, you go in and end Dagur once and for all."

"So why is Astrid coming with me?" Hiccup asked dryly, grimacing at the coffee. It was a particularly nasty version of camp coffee, all chicory and bitterness rather than anything consisting of extra caffeine. "Apart from protecting me from being poisoned. Thor-what is this?"

"Snotlout insisted we brewed this-apparently it's far better for your health than normal coffee…"

"And far worse for your sanity and conscious level," the hitman protested. "Can you possibly get me a proper one please?"

"She's coming to ensure you get your chance-by running interference for you," Toothless told him, staggering up as the Camper bounced along and making his way to the galley area-where a percolator was already brewing some better coffee. The horrible sounds of very bad singing was coming from the driver's cab. "She seems to think you deserve your shot." He lowered his voice. "She has asked every single one of us if we know your middle name, by the way." Hiccup involuntarily smiled.

"She's stubborn-I'll grant her that," he conceded. "And she's useful in a fight. I…almost trust her, T…and that scares the Hel out of me. Because if I trust her…if Dagur finds out that I feel… _anything_ for her…he may use her against me…"

"Not if you kill him first," Toothless reminded him in a stern voice, filing away the words for future analysis. His green eyes glittered. "I'd come with you myself…but you need someone hacking the satellites, misdirecting CCTV, feeding you intel…" Hiccup smiled as he took the steaming mug of proper coffee and then offered his friend his hand.

"And there's no one else I would trust with that job, my friend," Hiccup assured him. Then Toothless grinned and dragged a holdall out of one of the cupboards-Hiccup saw weapons, ammunition, grenades and a bag of chicken feed all stuffed in there and an eyebrow arched in surprise. The handler tossed him the bag and he opened the zipper-to see brown and green camouflage kit. He frowned and looked up.

"The twins and I saved your gear," he explained, "because we thought you may need it…" The hitman fished out the floppy-brimmed hat and nodded shortly, his fingers rubbing over the rim.

"It's about right," he murmured as he found his brown leather jacket stuffed in the bottom of the bag.

"Are you okay?" Toothless checked as the man began to strip off his shirt.

"I will be-when Dagur's dead," he said.

oOo

The wind was cold and smelled of damp as they lay among the bracken overlooking Dagur's country retreat...which in reality, seemed to be a heavily fortified and armed base. There were men patrolling the perimeter and sensors that Toothless was busy hacking and putting on a loop to confuse whoever was monitoring the cameras.

Astrid fidgeted to try to get the circulation back in her leg: she was lying alongside Hiccup in a good vantage point, buried in bracken and peering at the house. Occasionally, he glanced down the sights of the Valkyrie and then returned to his very practised waiting position. Face shielded by the floppy brim of his hat, he was silent and focussed, the rifle cradled lovingly in his arms. She sighed.

"How long do you have to wait for when you were doing this for your unit?" she asked him and he forced himself to break from the calm trance he tended to put himself into, blocking out all extraneous distractions apart from the mission. He nodded.

"I've done a few overnight vigils though usually it's only a few hours," he revealed. "You have to be aware of everything that could impact on the mission but not let yourself get distracted. And you have to be detached from the mission, seeing the target as an enemy to be disposed of rather than a living breathing person…"

"Maybe before," she realised, inspecting his focussed face. Without his casual, sarcastic mask, he was surprisingly young and handsome, his clear emerald eyes arresting. "But now it's personal…and that means you can't treat this like any other mission. You want to kill him-because he killed your family."

"I want to break his neck with my bare hands," he said through gritted teeth. "I want to shoot him over and over, causing him as much pain as it is possible to…and knowing that he will still have only experienced the merest fraction of what I have endured since he killed my family!"

"I am sorry," she said quietly. "You were a soldier doing his job and no one should have been able to find out who you were. You lost your wife, your son…and your Dad?"

"And Mom," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the house. "They were ambushed as they drove back from Lars the Butchers-because my Dad was a man who loved his hunks of roasted meat. The car was sprayed with machine-gun fire-and Mom was killed outright. Dad managed to get out and fought back…he killed at least three, from the blood spatter, though they took their dead away. But as the cops arrived, he got hit in the head and ended in an irreversible coma. About an hour later, my family were taken and we were driven away overnight…and killed the next morning. But he didn't kill me. I was dumped in a shallow grave on the bodies of my wife and little son. I came to buried and had to dig myself out. Fortunately my friends found me…but as far as everyone else is concerned, I died in that forest."

"And Night Fury was born," she realised.

"It was my call sign for Black ops," he admitted. "It gave me something to do while I tried to work out how to finish Dagur. Until finally…you walked into Dragon's Edge." She frowned.

"You told us that Dagur had claimed that he was promised protection-and that you should never have got close," she frowned. "Who could promise that? Only the President…or his inner cabinet…" The emerald eyes flicked over to inspect her frowning face.

"And now ASS are watching over him?" he asked thoughtfully.

"Who are under the direct control of the President," Astrid murmured. "I guess that means that finishing Dagur isn't the end of the story. I'll get Fish to look into this…" Suddenly his hand was locked on hers, his eyes filled with genuine warning.

"Can you trust him?"

"With my life," she confirmed. "I knew him before we entered the service. We were at High Schol together and he is the most decent, kind man I know. My Dad and Uncle were in BHS and AIS and they would never let this go…no matter where it leads. Because an agent is fearless and serves the country, not the individual." And then he smiled, his eyes twinkling momentarily.

"Being a sniper is easy…black or white, alive or dead," he told her easily. "Same for being a hitman."

"But being an agent…well, it's grey all the way," she sighed. "I mean, I think Snotlout has a weird disease where he can't even see grey, let alone comprehend the concept but I have to. I mean…technically, you are a wanted multiple murderer but you're helping us take out a terrorist and traitor, break his organisation and try to find out who is backing him…and who betrayed you….you, the hero soldier and faithful servant of the country who was betrayed and murdered when Dagur should never have known who you were!"

He squeezed her hand, reassuring her even as she winced at how passionate she sounded.

"Thank you," he said, releasing her. She smiled and a playful look crossed her face.

"I don't suppose your middle name is Hercule, Hadrian, Handy, Herleif, Horst or Hardwick?" she asked him and he chuckled, the sound making her heart flutter just slightly in her chest.

"At least one of those letters is correct," he teased her and then stiffened, lowering his head and peering through the sights once more as a dark coloured van pulled up at the main gates. "They're here. Showtime…"

Then he locked the crosshairs on the guard at the main gate, took a slow breath, let it out…and fired…


	17. Endgame

**Seventeen: Endgame**

The van pulled up to the perimeter, the four passengers all staring stolidly ahead. All wore various leather jackets and a selection of caps, beanies and a sun visor. The armed guard peered at the men-and woman-with a jaundiced eye, audibly sighing. The Boss had called in every man who worked for him, in even a nominal capacity and they had already had a variety of men rock up who were so useless even a meagre pick-pocketing ring would be ashamed to claim them. This van looked like another group of that sort of quality.

Tiredly, he rapped his knuckles on the window and the driver laboriously wound it down.

"Where did you come from?" he asked wearily. The husky man wearing the tweed flat cap gave a small embarrassed smile.

"Out in Bonkers," he said self-consciously. "We were assigned to guard a warehouse…which the Boss never really used. But when he asked for everyone to come…well, it's not like we were guarding anything of value and at least it will be interesting…"

Peering in, the guard saw a pair of lanky blondes who were wearing identical grey beanies and who were nudging and elbowing act other. A stocky man with raven hair seemed to have fallen asleep, his sun visor having slipped down to partly cover his face. Shaking his head, he waved them in and with a bright smile, the husky guy gave a small wave and drove on. Shaking his head and hefting the machine gun in his arms, the man turned back to the gate…

…right into the bullet that blew his brains out.

oOo

The van screamed into the garage and screeched to a halt. Heads turned as the driver sat motionless at the wheel, even as his three companions leapt out of the cabin.

"What's happening?" A heavyset man walked forward at the newcomers. The male with long blond dreadlocks was almost bouncing with excitement.

"Did you see that? That dude's head just exploded!" he said as the guard glanced out of the door of the garage-and saw the guard outside go down, blood spraying from his chest.

"SNIPER!" he yelled as another man fell. The garage door slammed shut and the men in the garage raced to their places-while the newcomers sped into the main part of the house…then Snotlout paused, wrenched the door open, grabbed Fishlegs' arm and dragged him from the van.

"Come on, Fishface," he grumbled as he almost pushed the husky agent forward. "We've got a job to do!" The twins were waiting for them in the passageway, both of them bouncing with excitement.

"Look-this is awesome, guys-and we have to make sure we do what we promised," Tuff said, fidgeting under his bulky duffle coat-which was packed with explosives and detonators. "In the words of our third cousin once removed, Sad Larry…"

"If you see a sheep on a hill, it's not worth the struggle," Ruff finished solemnly. Fishlegs blinked and then stared at them.

"What does that even mean?" he asked.

"It means you're back with us, handsome," she leered and winked unsettlingly at him. "Try not to get yourself killed and I promise I'll buy you the best coffee ever!"

"Yeah-not like that poison Snotman there had us brew," Tuff added.

"Hey-that was guaranteed caffeine free!"

"And taste free…and certainly enjoyment free…" Tuff added.

"You know-that's a date," Fishlegs found himself saying and smiled goofily at the female twin. She winked and elbowed her brother, who was suddenly scowling at the husky agent.

"C'mon, butthead-we've got explosions to cause. You know that always cheers you up…" she said sympathetically and Tuff brightened up somewhat.

"You're not serious about the lardass are you?" he asked in a concerned voice.

"He's funny, nice, sane and hasn't tried to kill you yet so he seems perfect," she explained as they walked away from the others, who turned and headed in the opposite direction. "And he's willing to have a coffee with a Nut so if you mess this up, I will leave you. Permanently. Forever."

"Wow. You're serious," her brother said as they reached the intersection. She nodded. "Okay-you put up with the chicken, I put up with the large guy. Deal?" He spat on his palm. Unhesitatingly, she mirrored the action and they shook hands and then head-butted. Both staggered.

"Right-you wanna blow something up?" she asked and Tuff grinned.

"And I already know where to start," he said.

oOo

Astrid was scanning the perimeter with a small high-powered pair of binoculars so she saw the men emerge from the half-concealed side entrance before Hiccup. Tapping him lightly, she indicated the gate they emerged from and he swiftly swing the muzzle of the rifle round, the sights locking onto the men, the buzz of their motorbikes faint in the clammy morning.

He took out the first couple but they were spreading out and moving too fast for him to get them all. Bouncing to a crouch, Astrid snatched her gun.

"They're after you," she said. "Keep Dagur's men busy…I'll see what I can do." And she rose and ran through the bracken, leaping over a gully and catching sight of the first man. He was charging towards her but she fired at him hitting him twice in the chest and he went down, the bike pinwheeling free. Bullets whizzed around her and she ducked, glancing towards the direction of the shots. Two more men were zipping up the slope, guns raised, She crouched and threw herself backwards into the gulley-as one man was slammed off the bike by the impact of a sniper round…but the other man was almost on her. She erupted up out of the depression and knocked the rider off the bike, both of them rolling in the dry, dead bracken.

The man was fumbling for his gun as Astrid threw herself forward, carrying him to the ground again and slamming his helmeted head against the ground. He punched at her and she just ducked, rolling off and grabbing his head, ripping the helmet away. The man punched her and she collapsed down, rolling and her hand finding her gun. But he grabbed her before she could turn and locked his arms across her throat, cutting off her air. Panic washed over her and she gasped, almost clawing at his arm-but the portion of her that was the agent fumbled with the gun, thumbed off the safety and slid her hand around her side as her vision faded, the muzzle suddenly jabbing into the man's body. And then she pulled the trigger.

The pressure on her throat eased and as he staggered back, she spun. pressing the gun against his chest and emptying the clip. He dropped, dead as she fell to her knees, coughing and rubbing her bruised throat. She was still gasping as the next man came at her-and went down as the Valkyrie took him out cleanly. She glanced up and saw Hiccup lowering the rifle.

"You okay?' he asked her, concern in his eyes. She nodded.

"I got sloppy," she admitted.

"Still impressive," he complimented her. "I wouldn't want to go up against you in a fist fight!" She smiled at the compliment and got to her feet.

"I think you've caused enough mayhem," she smiled. "I think it may be time to pay Dagur a visit." He nodded and lowered the Valkyrie to the ground, casting around for the nearest motorbike. "Aren't you…?"

"It's not a close quarters weapon," he said. "And I won't need her after this is done…" Then he headed out towards the nearest bike, lying on its side in the bracken. Pausing, she darted forward and slung the weapon across her back.

"Well I'm not planning on dying," she muttered, "and I'm not planning on letting you die either." Then she headed for the bike of the man she had tackled and dragged it up, restarting it and revving the engine. Hiccup was already heading down the slope and with a grimace, she accelerated after him. "No matter what you want."

oOo

It took Fishlegs less time that he had expected to find the surveillance office-because he knew the kind of mind that would run Dagur's Criminal Empire would site all his computerised functions in one area-which would include access to all his IT and records. The two men inside looked up as Snotlout popped his head round the door and glared but the stocky agent seemed unflappable.

"This isn't the kitchen?" he asked blithely.

"No. Go away!" one sneered.

"Hey-you can see everything that's happening from here!" Snotlout exclaimed, walking into the office with no self-consciousness at all. "Cool-look, that guy's got a hamburger!"

"Will you get out of here?" the second man growled. "This is a restricted area. We're in charge of all of the Boss's security and…"

"Oh thanks-that was what I was looking for," Snotlout said with a nasty look and shot both of them with stunner darts. The men stared at him and slumped over their consoles. "Come in, Fishface! Time for nerd stuff!"

"That nerd stuff is the whole point of the mission!" Fishlegs huffed, locking the door behind him. He and Snotlout cast around and found a back door which they checked was open before they barricaded the main entrance with a desk, two chairs and an angle poise lamp. Then, cracking his neck and stretching his hands, he pushed the unconscious man aside and logged into the open console. Snotlout made to pull up a chair but the husky agent stared at him in shock. "What are you doing?'' he asked incredulously.

"Duh! Sitting down!" Snotlout told him superiorly. "I've already worked hard in dealing with those two and…"

"And you know you have to tie them up now and guard the exits and check no one is getting in?" Fishlegs told him sharply.

"And what will you be doing? Updating your status on BerkBook?"

"What? You think hacking a system and stealing all of Dagur's secrets is just sitting on my backside?" Fishlegs snapped.

"And you're saying it _isn't?_ " Snotlout retorted.

"You want me to com Astrid and ask her what she wants you to do?" the husky agent retorted and there was a brief look of panic in Snotlout's pale blue eyes.

"You know…I think that I will check the escape route…not that I am in any way worried about what Astrid would say but because I, as senior officer on this part of the mission, deem it necessary," Snotlout announced and got up to cover the back door.

"You do know I outrank you?" Fishlegs murmured.

"I heard that!" Snotlout yelled as the husky analyst checked the cameras and saw the twins running up and down a corridor waving a pan of stew. He shook his head and continued accessing all of Dagur's most sensitive systems.

oOo

The twins found it was easier to be those guys who were new to the base but had been sent to help as the perfect excuse to cause mild chaos and deposit a selection of very powerful explosives at critical points in the base. Of course, they had needed to help move some armaments to help the defence-though Tuff had stolen all the firing pins from the pistols and Ruff had carefully left the wrong size ammunition.

They had visited the garage again, carefully rigging the gasoline stores with mini-CavernCrasher Mines and then headed via the kitchens, where they both located some very nice cakes. Mouths and hands full of strawberry gateau and Changewing Plastic Explosives deposited on the workings of the huge walk-in freezer for good measure, the twins swung out of the kitchen-and almost ran smack first into Savage. The man had escaped with Dagur from the forest and was yelling obscenities at the men when he saw the twins.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?" he yelled. "We're under attack and you're raiding the larder?"

"Fridge actually," Tuff mumbled through his mouth full of cake.

"Do I know you?" he asked suspiciously, peering at the twins…though their faces were smeared with cream.

"Got one of those faces," Ruffnut mumbled, deepening her voice.

"You're a boy, right?" Savage asked her and she nodded.

"Yeah…definitely…" she said in a deep voice.

"Well-go and defend the perimeter!" he yelled and they saluted, then ran off.

"Do you think he noticed we planted a mine in the main oven as well as the freezer?" Ruff murmured as they ran off.

"He will soon," said Tuffnut.

oOo

Hiccup raced down the hill, the bike jolting over the uneven ground with the buzz of Astrid's bike sounding in his ears. Eyes locked onto the door where the bikes emerged, he almost missed the guard manning the fence and he ducked as the shot whizzed past his head. Astrid fired from behind him and the man fell. He gunned the engine and shot through the gap and into the garage, his pistol in his hand. The first two men went down and then he threw himself from the bike, watching the speeding missile plough down three men men before Astrid blasted into the garage and zipped round the perimeter, taking out a couple more. Ruthless, he finished off anyone who was still moving and checked his magazine before Astrid joined him.

"You ready?" she asked him and he gave a grim smile.

"Are you?" he asked her. "I'm not sparing anyone. Are you okay with that?" She looked into his emerald eyes-now flat and glittering with determination and nodded.

"It's the only way to finish this," she reminded him and he nodded.

"T? You got any clues?" he murmured over his com and there was a pause.

" _I've hacked some surveillance satellites and the information suggests that he's towards the back-the northern aspect of the house,_ " Toothless murmured over the com. " _It certainly looks more heavily defended and has several escape routes built in. Any clues, Fish?_ "

" _There is surveillance all over the house except the suite at the northern part of the ground floor,_ " Fishlegs confirmed. " _I agree-that's gotta be his rooms. And there are about a dozen men outside, suggesting he's still here._ "

"Lock him down," Hiccup growled. "Can't have him making a break for it."

" _And…done…_ " Fishlegs murmured. " _Getting some resistance here, though. The encryption is military grade…and the systems and configuration looks like our military._ "

"Can you download it and decrypt it somewhere safer?" Astrid asked, peering down the hallway.

" _Already on it…but I have to ensure that I get all the log of coms with connections with external servers and that is taking time…_ " Fishlegs explained.

" _Will you shut up!_ " Snotlout griped.

"Fish…get all his records in preference and if you can get his correspondents, go for it…but not at your expense. There will be enough in his records and emails to give us what we need…"

" _I can see you,_ " Fishlegs said suddenly. " _There are guards hiding in the intersection up ahead, to the right…_ "

"Got it," Hiccup said, his eyes narrowing. "T-watch out for any vehicles approaching! Whoever is backing Dagur may not want us to get away with completing the mission!"

"On it," the handler confirmed as the auburn-haired hitman dived forward and gunned down the men waiting to ambush them and then sped on, every sense on edge. A figure lurched at them and Hiccup's hand swung up before Astrid leapt forward and grabbed his gun. Ruff raised her hands.

"'sme!" she said, still chewing.

"Why is there cream all over you?" Astrid asked and Ruff shrugged.

"Gateau," she explained as if it was obvious. "Tuff's just finishing modifying the transformer…" Hiccup lifted his gun and shot at her, the man behind her dropping.

"Finish the explosives and get out of here," he ordered roughly. "This is going to get nasty very fast…"

Nodding, Ruff dashed off as Hiccup and Astrid headed along the main hall towards Dagur's suite.

oOo

"I'm under attack! I was promised that no one would come at me-and that you would protect me and mine!" Dagur's voice was angry and petulant as he almost shouted into the phone. There was a pause.

" _They are operating beyond my command,_ " a gruff voice growled.

"Strange. I thought pretty much everything was in your command," the gangster sneered.

" _Your guardians are on their way-they will dispose of the irritations,_ " the gruff voice said as Dagur gave a sarcastic laugh.

"Really? The attackers are agents! And they have that damned hitman that I disposed of two years ago. They're in my house…"

" _My men are on their way-and they will stop them…by any means necessary…_ "

"You know, I may need to take care of this myself…and if I do, then you're gonna have to explain how those agents ended up dead."

There was a cool silence.

" _Occupational hazard…_ " the gruff voice said. " _A deal is a deal._ " As the click of him hanging up sounded, Dagur was already on his feet, two shiny pistols grabbed in his fists. He looked over to Savage and Vorg-his lieutenants, then glanced at Alvin, seeing the big man armed and ready to fight..

"Okay, men-looks like we'll need to deal with this ourselves…"

oOo

The men outside Dagur's rooms were heavily armed and alert…and definitely a different calibre to the rest of his men. Hiccup and Astrid ducked back as they shot at them and the hitman frowned.

"This could be a problem,' he murmured as the blonde frowned.

"Fish-is this the only way in?" she asked softly. There was a pause.

" _There is a bathroom at the back of the suite…it may be possible to get in through the dry riser if you go through the cellar…_ " She looked up and smiled.

"On it," she said with a determined smile then glanced over to the hitman. "You wait here, Fury." Then she handed him the Valkyrie. "Just in case," she added as he grasped the rifle automatically.

"You can call me Hiccup," he reminded her quietly. "Night Fury was my call sign as a sniper…"

"…and the deadliest man in the Archipelago," she reminded him. "Take care." He gave a small smile.

"And you," he told her seriously. "This is my mess, Astrid. And if anyone has to die to stop him, it's me." She winked.

"We'll see about that," she grinned and raced back down the corridor, murmuring in her com to Fishlegs to find the nearest route to the cellars. Snapping the Valkyrie into his grip, he retreated down the hall a little and edged over, covering the door and loading the rifle. He leaned into a doorway and heard bullets impact above his head-before he lowered the muzzle and locked onto the man shooting badly at him. One shot and the man dropped, a large smear of blood sprayed onto the wall behind him. He heard yells behind him and reloaded, peering down the corridor and taking down another of Dagur's men who was trying to flank him. As soon as the man hit the deck, dead, the twins popped their heads out of a doorway and gave him a thumb's-up.

"How's it going, NF?" Tuff asked cheerily. He stared at them in shock, then raised the rifle and shot another man who was running towards them from the far end of the hallway.

"Well, everyone in here wants to kill me, the man who annihilated my family is hiding behind the door and we still have no idea who in the government is backing him," he said. "How's your day?"

"Awesome!" Tuff enthused, walking happily towards the man, oblivious to any enemies. Hiccup leapt forward and carried him to the floor as bullets exploded above his head. "I mean you told us to blow this place up and we have had the absolute most fun in trying out all our most powerful bombs and explosives…all tied to a Night Terror switch."

"A what?" Hiccup groaned, rolling over and shooting the man sprinting towards them. Ruffnut shot another man in the back and Hiccup finished him off.

"A detonator that masters a huge number of separate explosives through micro slave units-so the whole thing detonates simultaneously," Tuff explained, suddenly focussed. "No serial detonations or delays-every unit of explosive is detonated at the same second. It will be beautiful!"

"Just please wait until we're all out before you do that," Hiccup growled and rolled to his feet, reloading his pistol and grabbing the Valkyrie, then scorching back to his position. Ruff appeared at his shoulder.

"Ah…a conundrum wrapped in an enigma wrapped in a leather jacket," she said in his ear and he jumped.

"Gah! One day I will accidentally blow your head off if you do that!" he warned her, resting a hand over his racing heart.

"Nah-you're too good for that," she told him confidently but he shook his head, frustrated.

"I need to get Dagur out-or get past those men and head in," he said angrily. The twins shared a look and then handed over a couple of small flat discs the size of hockey pucks.

"Skrills," they said in unison. He frowned and looked.

"Concussive explosives with a nasty twist-a blast of electricity," Ruff explained as he weighed up one in his hand.

"And how do I avoid electrocuting myself?" he asked pointedly. Tuff grinned.

"Duck," he said. "or is that chicken? I don't know…or do I?" Rolling his eyes, Hiccup scooched back into his doorway and peered down the sight for the Valkyrie, seeing the reflections of the men patrolling and crouched outside the door in the framed photograph of Oswald. A thin smile lifted his lips at the thought of the traitor and murderer helping him bring down his son-whoever unwittingly.

"Cover your ears," he murmured and then touched his com. "Fish, Snot-time to go. Finish up and get out of here. Astrid-we're going in…"

"Fury-we have a problem," Toothless said. "Two cars closing. Both have blacked out windows, four occupants each and are registered to Dragon Exports…"

"ASS?" Hiccup murmured. "Okay team-time's up. Grab your gear and go. And that means you two, twins…"

"You know, I think we need to stay…" Ruff murmured quietly but the hitman shook his head.

"Get out…please?" he murmured and gave a small smile. "I need to know you're safe, okay? And can you make sure we have a way out? I'm not sure I trust Snotspleen to wait behind for me…" Tuff nodded.

"Okay-one escape route coming up," he promised as Hiccup handed him the Valkyrie.

"And look after her, okay?" he asked in a low voice, knowing what the twins would assume. Tuff nodded and handed the hitman his pistol.

"Promise," he murmured. "I'll have her loaded and ready when you rejoin us!" Ruff gave a curt nod and the pair raced off down the hall as Hiccup sank down in his doorway and peered at the Skrills.

"Okay," he murmured, peering at the reflection in Oswald's picture and waiting until the men were in position before he armed the Skrills and darted out, lobbed both at the men and dived for cover.

The whole corridor shook and the crackle of electricity mingled with the screams of the men as they were tossed around and jerked agonisingly in the scarifying current. And then there was silence.

Hiccup was instantly up, his guns in his hands and running towards the door. The remains of the six guards were strewn over the rubble and he shot the lock and kicked the door open, ducking sideways so that he wasn't silhouetted against the flames of the corridor. Bullets ricocheted off the wall by his head as he ducked down and peered into the room. The lights flickered and dimmed, casting deep shadows over the room, the windows shuttered closed.

"You really don't know when to give up!" Dagur's voice echoed through the room and Hiccup felt a surge of relief: he was tired of the chase, tired of the numb pain gripping his heart, of feeling every day, every breath was a failure, a betrayal of Cami and Sam and Dad and Mom because the man who killed them was still breathing, still taunting him. His hands tightened around the grips of the pistols.

"Always was stubborn. It runs in the family," he replied lightly, trying to locate the man from his voice and hoping he would continue talking.

"How are they by the way?" Dagur taunted him. "All dead?" Head tilting, Hiccup narrowed his eyes and ducked behind a large table made from a fallen tree trunk, gnarly and stunning.

"Well, I'm still alive so not yet," Hiccup called, belly-crawling in the shadows.

"Why won't you just die?" Dagur snapped and Hiccup gave a small smile at the irritation as he finalised his aim.

"Having too much fun," he said and fired. There was a yell and a curse and bullets slammed into the table above him as he crawled to a new location and shot at the sounds of cursing. The language got worse and the hitman gave a small smile as he threw himself into the space under the heavy curtains, glimpsing the shape…and seeing him dive for the door to the next room. The muzzle-flashes of the gangster's men lit the room but they were firing where he had been, not where he was and he silently smiled.

"You know you'll never succeed!" Dagur yelled. Rolling to his knees, the hitman saw the men against the lights in the next room-and shot them all. They were falling as he stumbled forward and dived through the doorway into the next room, a totally white living room with three huge black leather couches, a black lignum vitae table and a huge black Chinese cabinet at the back. The wall was dominated by a three times life size picture of Dagur and spotlights scattered across the high roof, abolishing all shadows. Pistols levelled, Hiccup froze as he locked on Dagur-and felt his heart lurch as he saw Savage stand by the man's side, Astrid held helpless against him with a gun jammed hard into her neck.

"Sorry-they jumped me," she mumbled, sounding dazed. "It was a trap."

A sick feeling flipped in his stomach as he saw Dagur-who had a hand pressed to his shoulder, which was oozing from a glancing shot-grin cruelly.

"Now who would have guessed that?" the gang boss taunted him as four men emerged from the doors behind him, their weapons levelled at the hitman. Emerald eyes narrowing, Hiccup levelled one gun on Dagur's head and the other on Savage's. "You can drop the weapons now or your girlfriend gets it."

" _They've arrived,_ " Toothless said over the com and the expression fell from Hiccup's face. He was out of time.

"Leave," he growled to his friends as the henchmen all sniggered.

"That won't impress anyone," Dagur sneered and grabbed Astrid, hauling her in front of him and jamming the muzzle of his gun under her chin. "Drop your weapon or I'll blow her face off." Struggling, Astrid growled and struggled but his grip was too tight and too expert for her to break. "I mean, you definitely seem to have a type. Blonde and blue eyes…predictable. Do you want to watch another woman die for you?"


	18. Fathers' Sons

**A/N: Thanks to everyone who reviewed. I had this planned out and some of your feedback made me rethink this chapter and amend it a little. Hope you enjoy!-hp**

**-o-**

**Eighteen: Father's Sons**

_"_ _They've arrived,_ " Toothless said over the com and there was a long pause as the implications sunk in. The hitman knew he was out of time.

" _Leave_ ," he growled over the com.

"Understood," Fishlegs replied automatically, though only Hiccup and the others on the mission could hear him. Hiccup had left his channel open so everyone could hear the confrontation and they had all heard that Astrid was captured…but every one of them knew that he was her best chance of survival.

In the surveillance room, he checked everything was downloaded, then took his secure and highly modified flash drive from the computers and slid another in. It was his final present to Dagur's Crime Empire and contained a very nasty surprise that he had been working on throughout the mission. Thick fingers dancing impossibly lightly over the keyboard, he smiled as he deployed the programme, initiated and watched the task bar filled and the screen went dead…and every other one blanked as well. There was a pause and the lights went out.

"What did you do?" Snotlout whined. Fishlegs pulled out a small pen torch and scurried to the exit.

"Wiped the system…and sent the virus to all associated systems," he smirked. "Meaning his friends are about to have a very bad day…" Shaking his head, Snotlout headed off into the gloomy corridor, scanty red emergency lights the only illumination. Two men stumbled in their way and though Snotlout tensed, the henchmen looked worried.

"You any idea what's happening, man?" the shorter one said.

"Er…no," Snotlout replied with a shrug. One skill he possessed in spades was looking uninterested. "The lights just went out and bam…we're lost…"

"Where're you going?" the fatter henchman asked, his bulging eyes sympathetic.

"Garage," Fishlegs squeaked. "I mean…it seems like a good idea to get outta here, right?"

"C'mon…it's this way," the short man said and beckoned. "We'll take you there!"

"Hey-thanks, man," Snotlout said cheerfully, fumbling in his pocket. "Gum?"

"Don't mind it I do…" the fatter one said, helping himself as they ambled towards the exit.

oOo

The twins were in a rictus of anxiety with Tuffnut accidentally chewing on a block of Quaken plastic explosive in his distraction. He then spent the next five minutes jumping up and down to see if he would explode…though Ruff was pretty sure he wouldn't because Quaken, though powerful, was pretty stable unless detonated by a powerful charge. Both twins were carrying a 'Smidvarg' unit-the master control to the Night Terror detonation system in case they got separated…or the worst happened. Of course, they were sitting determinedly in the van and refusing to budge, no matter how many henchmen tried to get in…though when the two who foolishly did heard Tuff rambling and Ruff grinning hopefully at them, they scrambled out, preferring to run for it.

Until Snotlout and Fishlegs arrived, grinning and chatting like old friends to two henchmen. To their shock, the men all ambled over to the van and all clambered in. The twins shared a shocked look and then glanced back to the intruders.

"Guys-meet Lars and Sven," Snotlout said cheerfully. "They work in the maintenance department. They helped us find our way back here and I said we could give them a lift…okay?"

"Oh Thor," Ruffnut groaned and face-palmed.

" _Head east out of the house-NOW!_ " Toothless snapped over the com. " _ASS agents are coming in through the west garage. Get out of there._ "

"And then?" Ruffnut murmured as she started the engine, slammed the gas pedal to the floor and shot back at full speed. Toothless paused.

" _Blow the place,_ " he said.

"But…"

" _You know that was the plan, Ruff…unless Fury wants to change the plan?_ "

But there was no reply.

oOo

Dagur's face stretched in a cruel smile, his pallid green eyes locked on the hitman covering him. Astrid was struggling in his grip, the fact a gun was jammed under her chin not deterring her from fighting furiously. But her gaze was on Hiccup as well, seeing his face tighten in anger and concentration. The men Dagur had summoned were inching closer to him, flanking the hitman.

"Do you want to watch another woman die for you? Do you want to watch her to die for you?"

Hiccup backed up half a pace, his pistols level and locked on the gang leader, trying to ignore the words. But in his mind, he saw Cami, looking up at him from her knees, her lips moving in her final goodbye, absolving him from all blame. And his heart clenched in pain at the thought. But Cami was gone and somehow, Astrid had managed to thaw his frozen and shattered heart a little with her unique fierce, brave and dedicated attitude, tempered with her concern for her team and risking her own career, reputation and freedom to spring him and persist with the unauthorised mission.

"Any death is your choice, Dagur-you can't lay any blame on me…because you are a rabid dog who's a plague on the Archipelago!" he said firmly. The men were moving, closing his space. "And lest you forget, I have my guns trained on your head. The moment you shoot her, you're dead!"

As Dagur opened his mouth, he moved, the guns snapping laterally and firing a volley of shots that dropped the four henchmen and Savage before the muzzles snapped back to level straight at the gangster's head. The gangster hauled Astrid off her feet.

"So it looks like we have a stalemate," the man said. "So drop your guns or I will kill her slowly…or leave her maimed and disfigured. Wouldn't that be nice?"

"Ignore him!" Astrid gasped. "Shoot him. He can't be allowed to get away with it any more."

"Shut up!" Dagur growled, hauling her even closer against him. "Mmm…does this give you ideas, blondie?" She slammed her heel back into his shin and he yelled in pain. "Or I'll make you wish you had died…"

"Let. Her. Go…" Hiccup growled.

"You know-how could I have not recognised you?" Dagur asked him, his voice apparently friendly. "I mean…I saw you close to when I shot you and killed your family…of course, your hair was short and you were a soldier and of course, I thought you were dead and buried in the forest…but I was advised a hitman was after me and I never made the connection. How weird is that…?"

"It's between us," Hiccup snarled. "I killed your father as a serving solider under orders of the President…and then you somehow found out my highly classified identity, murdered my superior officer, my parents, my wife and son and tried to kill me. I followed orders-and the person you should have had issues with sits in the Granite Office in Berk…but you decided to commit multiple murder. And for that, you will pay."

Dagur jabbed the muzzle into Astrid's neck.

"Girlfriend here is my prisoner," he reminded the hitman snarkily.

"Not girlfriend," Hiccup snapped.

"Then you won't mind me killing her," Dagur sneered.

"You die a millisecond later," Hiccup promised, his eyes locked on the man, trying to line up a shooting solution that didn't hit Astrid. "She's the only thing saving your life."

"Then maybe I should keep her…possibly forever…" Dagur sneered, the barrel of the gun caressing her throat and stroking along the line of her jaw.

"So I'll take out Heather instead," Hiccup vowed. There was a sudden silence and Dagur's hand closed around her throat.

"You leave my sister out of it," he threatened. Hiccup gave a humourless smirk.

"Why?" he asked. "The callous bitch is hardly innocent. She's your sister and accessory to everything you do. She hurt me. Only fair I return the favour…"

A blur slammed into him as Astrid yelled "HICCUP!"…before the word was abruptly choked off.

"ASTRID! I will come for you! You hear? I will come for you!"

The huge shape that had slammed into him bore him to the ground, the guns skittering from his grip as a fist glanced against his jaw. Rolling away, he saw a blur in the corner of his eye and saw Astrid being hauled away by Dagur-but the bulky shape between him and the master of Berserk commanded his attention. The man was huge, powerful with a large wild black beard, scars on his face and dark brown eyes.

"Hey, Al," Hiccup said humourlessly as he recognised the henchman from the Compound in Berserk.

"Yer don't recognise me," the man said and then he smiled cruelly. "And I didn't-until the forest." He bunched his fists. "In fact, I bet yer thought I was dead…Lieutenant Haddock!" The change in tone from a rough Berserk accent to the clear precise tones that he recalled from his nightmare.

"General Utstoett?" he mouthed. "But…you were killed…" The former General gave a nasty smile.

"My apartment blew up with the body of a homeless man supplied by Dagur and about 100cc of my blood for the identification…though who else would be in my apartment in my uniform in the evening?" he scoffed. "Dagur made me a very generous offer and it dwarfed what I could ever make working for the army…"

"You were trusted," Hiccup growled. "Your men trusted you. _I_ trusted you. And you betrayed me?"

"I have to admit…I laughed at the thought of you trusting to the confidentiality of Black Ops when I warned you were in danger," he sneered. "Especially when I knew exactly what time Dagur's men were due to arrive…" With a yell, Hiccup flung himself forward, using his momentum to bear Alvin to the ground, rolling away and dodging another hefty blow. And then he saw Alvin pull out a large knife.

"Don't feel able to finish me with you bare hands?" Hiccup said, dancing back as the blade swiped through the space where he head been. The backswing nicked his left forearm and he hissed, the fine line of blood soaking into his sleeve. He skipped round the far side of a black leather sofa and heard a door slam ahead. Concern for Astrid almost distracted him-but Alvin leapt over the couch and he skipped back, tripping over the coffee table and slamming to the floor. He rolled to avoid the knife ending in his back and stretched for a gun-but a hand stamped on his outstretched hand and he yelped. Alvin rose above him, the knife raised…and he grimaced, shaking the Grimora from its wrist holster into his hand and discharging all three shots into Alvin's black heart. The former General stared at him in shock…and then collapsed backwards, exhaling his last breath with a puzzled expression fading from his eyes.

Gritting his teeth as he gingerly moved his painful right hand. Hiccup grabbed his gun in his left hand and stumbled up, then sprinted off in the direction that Dagur had disappeared. He erupted into a bedroom with a SuperKing four-poster bed, several doors and an open pair of French doors out into the damp and grey afternoon. He touched his hand to his ear, realising his com had clicked off. Emerging, he glanced around-and saw the signs of someone moving over the grass with other marks from someone being dragged.

"Guys-if you can hear me-blow this place," he breathed as he sprinted off in the direction that Dagur had headed.

oOo

Ruff and Tuff shared a look, their eyes wide. They were slewing round the perimeter, trying to avoid the other vans, cars and motorbikes that everyone was escaping on and the two black sedans containing the agents. Lars and Sven were hanging onto Snotlout and Fishlegs and looking very anxious, wondering what they had got into.

" _Fury? Thanks Thor! Are you alright?_ " Toothless demanded. " _Speak to me!_ "

" _He's got Astrid,_ " Hiccup panted. " _We're out the back and running towards that small outbuilding on the crest of the hill._ "

"We're on our way," Tuff promised.

" _No! Blow up the house and get out of there!_ " Hiccup urged them. " _You gotta stay out of this-and avoid those ASS agents. They're here to help Dagur. He's had an inside line to the government all along…and at least I found out who betrayed me._ "

" _Who?_ " Toothless's voice was grim.

" _Utstoett._ " The word was spat with hatred.

" _But he was killed in…_ "

" _He faked it,_ " Hiccup cut in, breathing hard as he ran. " _He joined Dagur…for an obscene amount of money. He tried to kill me-but he's not coming back this time. Now blow the bloody house!_ " Tuff pulled out his detonator as Sven and Lars stared in shock at the twins-especially since Ruff was also driving.

"Together?" the male twin asked and his sister grinned.

"Always," she confirmed, her hand closing over his. "One…"

"…two…"

…THREE!" they yelled together and twisted the button. There was a pause.

"Ha! I knew nothing was going to…" Snotlout began.

…and then the entire world filled with brilliance as the entire house, garages and cellars erupted into a confusion of flame, smoke and debris, blasting in all directions and vaporising anyone left in the house. The van shook and almost bowled over but Ruff grabbed the wheel and they managed to remain upright, slewing across the remains of the road.

"THOR ALMIGHTY!" Fishlegs exploded in shock and peered out the window as the debris continued to fall around them. "Gods-what did you do to that?"

"We had some really good stuff that we needed to use up-and H is worth our best," Tuff explained.

"Where is he?" Fishlegs asked as they saw the two black sedans veer and head towards them.

"North of the house-and moving fast…" the man reported.

"We're on our way…as soon as we can lose these ASSes," Ruff reported.

"Um…who are you people?" Sven asked warily. Snotlout grinned.

"We're the good guys," he explained. "And we gotta evade the other good guys who are working for the bad guys to collect the bad guy who is working for us before he gets himself killed by your boss-who is the worst guy of all…"

The former henchmen shared a look.

"Whenever you can drop us off, that would be fine," Lars offered. "I mean…not that we're not grateful but I think we wouldn't even know which side were were on…"

"After we've rescued Fury and our leader," Fishlegs said, his eyes glittering. "Ruff-floor it! Time's running out!"

oOo

The marks led across the manicured lawn towards a brick built building about a quarter-mile away. The trail was obvious, scuffs and footsteps-but he couldn't see either the terrorist or his captive. And though he was acutely aware that he was exposed as he sprinted across the lawn, he knew Dagur had a lead and he had to take the risk. The man had a hostage and he guessed Dagur's sadistic nature would make him want Hiccup and Astrid to suffer for his defeat.

 _I promised you, Milady,_ he thought grimly. _I promised I would kill him for killing you and Sam. No matter what happens to me._

 _Even if it costs Astrid her life?_ he asked himself pointedly. _Is it worth it? Is your vengeance worth getting her killed?_

 _It's an occupational hazard for an agent_ , he reminded himself as he approached the brick building. He heard the sounds of an engine roaring and a crash so he ducked down, running crouched as he hit the door of the outbuilding, breathing hard.

_And she saved your life. She went to help you. Is vengeance for your wife and son two years dead worth killing her as well?_

He calmed his breathing and checked his pistol.

_I promised._

He dived in through he door, which was on the latch and dive-rolled to the side, rolling to his knees, his eyes and gun sweeping over the space. It was a garage with a jeep lined up with a dune buggy and a land rover while a handful of motorbikes were lined up against the opposite wall. And there was a space where a vehicle had just been opposite the door which was flung open with tyre tracks recently cut into the damp grass, heading arrow straight towards the forest. He could see the dune buggy vanish between the bushes into the tree line and he ran to the nearest bike, turned the key in the ignition and heard the engine burst into life.

 _This is for Cami,_ he reminded himself. _I am sure she wouldn't mind…_

But his heart knew otherwise. His wife had been a woman who was selfless, who loved him and their son with all her heart, who helped women abused and terrified and who believed that every life mattered. And who forgave him for getting her killed.

_She wouldn't want you to die, wouldn't want you to give up on life…and she wouldn't want a young woman who is a dedicated officer of BHS to be killed in your quest for vengeance._

He accelerated out of the garage, the cold air slapping his face, squinting as he surged after Dagur. He changed gear as he hit the slope and raced up, fishtailing sideways as he aimed his entry point lateral to Dagur's, trying to avoid running smack into a wall of gunfire…but as he landed on a rough trackway, the mud marked by fresh tyre tracks, he knew that Dagur was drawing him into a trap. But he sped forward, bouncing over a spur and cutting the corner of the track as he raced amid the trees, racing parallel to the track. His eyes swept the way until he saw the dune buggy, sitting abandoned, the engine still running.

Angling the bike, he burst through the brambles and hit the track, seeing the vehicle abandoned and he forced the bike after the tracks, finally feeling he was closing on his prey. Jumping over a gulley, he surged up the steep slope and then threw himself sideways as bullets ripped above his head. The bike skidded on and slammed into a tree as Dagur erupted from behind the trees and threw himself at the hitman. Rolling to avoid a blow at his head, Hiccup was up and threw himself into the terrorist, his hands closing round the man's thick neck and slamming him back to the ground. Dagur clawed at his face and Hiccup jerked his head back, finding himself thrown away.

"Where's Astrid?" he breathed heavily, never taking his eyes off the buff gangster.

"I thought she wasn't you girlfriend," Dagur taunted him. "Were you lying?"

"She's a friend," he said automatically.

"Oh-ho…so you do care about her!" he sneered. "Pity."

His heart lurched and he glanced around, trying to see where she was.

"Where is she, Dagur?" he demanded. The Berserker grinned.

"Somewhere very safe," he smirked. "And you won't find her until it's too late…"

_Thank Thor she's still alive…but she may not have long._

"Where is she?" Hiccup growled. "She is literally the only thing that can save your life…" Dagur's face darkened and he snatched at his gun-even as Hiccup was already throwing himself at the man. Hands closing on Dagur's, they wrestled, falling and rolling over the damp moss, brambles slashing at their skin and mud smearing their clothes.

"I will bury you along with her!" Dagur yelled and Hiccup head-butted him, pulling away and diving behind a tree as Dagur shot at him. Drawing his gun, Hiccup snapped a couple of shots back and paused, clearing his mind. There was a fog of anger and hatred that were blunting his judgement, making him want to rip the man apart with his bare hands…but he was a professional. And he needed to do what Astrid had done-act like a professional…

_Target: Dagur 'the Deranged' Oswaldson. Age 32. Son of the late Oswald Oswaldson, traitor and failed challenger for the Presidency. Head of the Berserker Criminal Empire. Wanted for about two hundred murders though no one has ever survived to testify against him. Controls an organisation that thrives on terror and specialises in murder, protection, gun and drug dealing, people trafficking, prostitution, gambling, corruption of officials, terrorism and treason. Loves soft targets especially parks, hospitals, theatres, malls… Ties to the top levels of government that remain live to this moment enabling access to covert and secure services that he should never be even aware of. And he killed my father, my mother, my wife and my son. Psych analysis describes him as a psychopath with profound sadistic tendencies. No respect for the law or for any life. Only seems care for his bitch sister. He's lived too long…_

He slowed his breathing and listened, heard the man's breathing, the creak of his leather pants, the slight squeak as he shifted his weight, mentally locking onto the Berserker's location. And then he threw himself left and shot, the bullet ripping into the right side of Dagur's chest.

The man fell back, slamming against the tree behind him.

"Well that was unexpected," he commented as Hiccup rose, the gun levelled at his head. Slowly, he advanced, his eyes brilliant with hatred. It was the moment he had dreamed of, fantasised of for two years. To put a bullet between those mad, pale eyes. To silence the voice that taunted him in his nightmares. To finally avenge his beloved Cami and Sam…

…but Astrid wasn't here. And she was in definite and very immediate peril, with Dagur the only person who knew where she was. Every moment, she could be dying…and killing Dagur could condemn her to death.

_Was his revenge worth that? Was killing this man to avenge those already lost worth losing Astrid?_

There was no hesitation as he realised the answer.

He lowered his aim slightly, the muzzle pointing at Dagur's body, the hatred coursing through his veins but sanity gripped him tightly.

"WHERE IS SHE?" he yelled. Dagur chuckled.

"Same place as your wife," he sneered. "I'll show you…if you drop the gun." His hand was lying next to his own pistol and Hiccup shook his head.

"I will let you live if you give me Astrid's location," he breathed, the hatred in his voice almost choking his words.

"You'd give up your revenge for her?" Dagur scoffed. "Drop the gun."

"And let you shoot me? No," Hiccup snapped. He swallowed. "Give me Astrid's location."

"What are you prepared to give up?" Dagur taunted him. The hitman took a pace closer.

"You misunderstand me," he said in a toneless voice. "This isn't a negotiation. I have offered to allow you to live. But I want you to talk." The muzzle moved slightly and he fired once. Dagur screamed as his knee shattered. "Where is Astrid?"

"You can't do this!" Dagur grunted. "I am protected. You and your friends and their families will be annihilated for this! I swear that! I…"

Hiccup shot his other knee. The Berserker's howl echoed through the damp forest.

"Where is Astrid?"

"But you can't do this!" he protested. "My friends are on their way-and they will kill you all."

His elbow was next, the explosion of blood spraying a stand of bracken a yard away from the Berserker. The scream bounced off the clammy firs.

"Astrid. Where is she?"

"Where we all end up!" Dagur yelled, his words degenerating into a psychotic chuckle, eyes swinging wildly. And then he snatched at the pistol and raised it-until a bullet ripped through his wrist.

"WHERE. IS. SHE?" Hiccup said icily.

"Time's up," Dagur taunted him. "She'll be gone now."

"Then you have lived too long," Hiccup told him, lifting the muzzle. The bullet slammed straight into Dagur's heart. The man jerked, his pallid green eyes widening.

"But…you can't touch me. I was promised…" he breathed as his eyes closed and he went slack. Breathing hard, Hiccup stared at the dead man. The monster who had haunted his nightmares for so long was gone, defeated with unsatisfying ease once his organisation had been neutralised. Dagur seemed to have expected his allies to protect him and he had been surprised that no one had come to save him. And all that Hiccup felt was empty. His beloved Cami and the light of his life, his little son Sam, were still dead, his father had still spent two years dying in a coma and his Mom had been gunned down. And Dagur's death didn't alter any of that. Hiccup's life was still shattered, his heart was still smashed to pieces and he had lost everything. Dagur's death was revenge for all those hurts but it didn't alter anything. If anything, it had been too merciful.

And he knew that his father would be ashamed of him.

And then his head snapped round and he cast around for Dagur's trail, his brain snapping back into gear. Astrid was still out there-Astrid who had saved him. Astrid who had rescued him. Astrid who had sat across a table from the most feared hitman in the Archipelago and calmly made a deal. She had never failed to do what she had promised. Now he had to do what he had promised her and he sped off down the slope, following the trail. The spoor was obvious, made by one person moving fast…meaning she was further down. He hadn't heard a shot and Dagur's words seemed to indicate that she was still alive…but maybe would not be now.

He almost dropped into the deep, steep-sided gulley that he had jumped over on the bike and he stopped, seeing half the side had collapsed and a stream was soaking into the fresh fall of earth.

_Where is she?_

_Somewhere very safe. And you won't find her until it's too late…_

_I will bury you along with her…_

"ASTRID!" Hiccup yelled and leapt into the gully, seeing the stream soaking into the heavy, damp black soil. "Astrid…" Urgently, he began to dig with his hands, clawing away at the heavy earth, seeing the water level rise, dammed by the soil and seeping into the earth bank. "Hang on-please hang on…" He dug frantically, conscious only of his own breaths, the heavy feel of the damp earth in his hands, the trickle of the water and the wild beating of his heart.

"Astrid…" he gasped, clawing the earth aside…and suddenly, there was a movement. Frantically, he dug away, moving earth to find Astrid's mud-smeared face and seeing her brow furrow. Her golden hair was soaked with mud and her clothes were absolutely caked with the mire. Tenderly, her wiped the earth from her skin, seeing the bruise swelling her face from where Dagur must have punched her. "It's okay…I'm here…"

Her eyes fluttered and she coughed hard, starting to struggle. Unconsciously, he moved the earth to free her, seeing her hands cuffed behind her back, rendering her helpless. Gently, he slid an arm under her and pulled her up, cradling her sodden body against his.

"It's okay-you're safe," he breathed roughly. She coughed hard against him and nuzzled into his neck, feeling his arms tighten around her.

"What too you so long?" she asked hoarsely.

"You know me…stopped for a snack, had a chat, killed Dagur…" he said lightly.

"Good," she growled as he gently helped her up, then pulled out his pistol and shot through the chain between the cuffs. His hand gently cupped her face and stared into her eyes.

"Are you okay?" he asked her gently.

"What is it with him and burying people?" she asked, wiping more earth from her face. "I think he meant for no one to find me…or for you to get to me too late…" He carefully helped her out of the gulley, clambering up the steep sides of the gulley, mud smearing all over them as they finally reached the ground level.

"Don't know…but he can find out what it's like now…not that he will know," he murmured, taking her hand as he saw her hesitate.

"You did it," she said in a distant voice. "Now go. ASS are on their way and you did what you promised. I just need to ask you one question…" His eyebrows raised. "Is it Huzaifah?"

"What?" I mean…is that even a name?" he spluttered, searching her face and seeing her lips curl in a small smile.

"Yup. Arabic. It means 'small sheep'," she told him with a hint of her usual determination.

"Oh-you think I look like a small sheep?" he teased her, feeling her hand tighten on his.

"More like a giant mole," she pointed out, gesturing at his incredibly muddy appearance.

"Right back at you," he retorted lightly, "and no." The walked a few more paces before she took a deep breath.

"By the way…thank you for saving my life," she murmured.

"I think you're still ahead in the score," he reminded her as she shook her head with a smile.

"I think we're quits," she said and looked up, her blue eyes meeting his emerald gaze and noting there was a new light in that stunning green gaze. "Now I just have to persuade Director Jorgensen to write out the cheque for four hundred thousand dollars…"

"FREEZE!"

The pair looked up-to see eight men in black suits and shades, their pistols levelled at the two. Both slowly raised their hands as Hiccup carefully dropped his gun to the earth with a loud thud.

"Boy, he really doesn't want to write that cheque," he murmured dryly. "I think we may be in trouble."


	19. Pawn

**Nineteen: Pawn**

Astrid flashed her ID to the warders and stood with barely-concealed impatience as they patted her down. She reluctantly handed over her weapon but refused to relinquish her ID.

"ID's mine," she growled, her azure eyes glittering so ferociously that the shorter warder backed up a step. "Special Agent Hofferson, Berk Homeland Security and Archipelago Intelligence Services. Now open the damned door!" The man-a short hairy man whose name-badge read MULCH-saluted with an amiable look on his face.

"Just doing me job, Special Agent," he said without rancour and Astrid felt a pang of guilt at her temper-but she hadn't been able to see Hiccup for two days and she was worried for him. She forced herself to calm down. His partner-a tall man with a long blonde beard and a simple expression with a badge proclaiming his name was BUCKET- nodded, looking worried.

"I know-and thank you," she said clearly. "But I need to see the prisoner." Mulch smiled and led her to the cell, through four sets of locked gates before they finally reached the cell. With a nod, Mulch opened the door and let her in.

"Just knock or call when you want to get out," he advised her as the door slammed behind her.

It was strange to see Hiccup in prison orange, the short-sleeved coveralls loose on his lean frame, sitting on the single metal-framed bed, his bare feet flat on the floor. And then he looked up and his face lit as he saw her, a smile lifting his lips and emerald eyes sparkling.

"Astrid!" he said and there was definite relief in his voice as he rose to greet her. The weight lifted off her chest and she walked forward and hugged him, feeling him stiffen for a fraction before wrapping his arms around her and hugging her back. "Are you okay?" he asked roughly and she nodded.

"I should be asking you that," she admitted, looking up into his face as he gave a small smile.

"You know me-can't manage to keep my mouth shut," he reminded her.

_The Special Agents closed on them, both exhausted and caked with mud, their guns trained on them. Hiccup could see Astrid was starting to shake and he lowered his hands slightly, taking a small step towards the agents._

_"_ _Let's all be sensible and not lose our heads," he suggested in a very even voice. "Special Agent Hofferson needs medical help…"_

_The nearest man swung and the pistol cracked across his head, stunning him and dropping him to the damp ground. A quartet of guns levelled at his prone body and he groaned, tensing and expecting to be shot-but in that moment, Astrid growled._

_"_ _Lower your weapons!" she snapped. "Special Agent Hofferson, BHS. We have just completed our mission and dismantled the Berserker Crime Empire. My colleague here has executed Dagur 'the Deranged' Oswaldson for treason and terrorism offences. This was a high level mission authorised by the Director." Then she lowered her hands. "And we're on live coms here, gentlemen-so anything you want the whole of BHS to hear?"_

_The lead agent walked forward, a tall, buff man with slicked back jet hair and a rugged face with a traditional tattoo on his square chin. She saw her reflection in his mirror black shades as he paused-and then gave a curt nod._

_"_ _Eretson, Archipelago Secret Service," he said curtly. "We were informed that there was an illegal attempt on a valued asset…"_

_"_ _Obviously, you were misinformed," Astrid told him sharply. "Dagur was wanted for hundreds of deaths, the whole range of gangland crimes and multiple terrorist attacks against the people of the Archipelago. I am certain even ASS could find the warrants on the system…" And she folded her arms, her incredibly dishevelled and dirty appearance not detracting one whit from the sarcasm in her voice. Special Agent Eretson holstered his weapon, nodding to his men to stop pointing their weapons at her._

_"_ _But that man is the wanted assassin Night Fury," he said grimly and she nodded._

_"_ _He has been contracted by BHS to assist in the mission-and he has completed his contract," she admitted as they closed on him. "And our deal includes a no jail time clause."_

_"_ _Forgive me if I have to clear that with my superiors," he said as the man dragged the stunned hitman up and cuffed his hands roughly behind his back. "I believe you do need medical assistance, Special Agent Hofferson. Allow us to return you to your team and then we can clarify the position of this criminal."_

_And though she had argued, they had bundled Hiccup into the other car and swept away as she was returned to the others. And as the day had caught up with her, the world had spun and everything had faded to black._

"I should have found you sooner," she said guiltily as he gently lifted her chin with a finger, his eyes kind.

"You were all in," he reminded her, absolving her of any blame. "You had been knocked out and buried alive. You were cold and wet and hypothermic. I presume they got you to hospital?" She nodded.

"Discharged myself," she admitted dryly. "And then spent the next day and a half finding out where they had stashed you." He chuckled.

"Can resist all…this?" he teased her, pulling back and gesturing to his lean shape.

"Trying my best," she retorted and looked into his eyes. "I'm sorry," she blurted out. "I mean-this isn't the deal we made and you shouldn't be here…" He shrugged and walked slowly back to the bed, sitting down heavily and running his hands through his dishevelled auburn hair.

"Yeah…but the moment ASS caught up with us, it was obvious they weren't happy I'd killed off their man," he said. She walked over and sat beside him.

"Oh?"

"Agent Eretson said they were there to stop 'an illegal attempt on a valued asset'," he reminded her as her eyebrows raised. "I was stunned but not unconscious. And it seemed sensible to stay down and not give them an excuse to execute me out of hand."

"I'm not sure they…" she began and then reran the episode in her memory. "I think the only reason why either of us are alive is because I said the com to the team was open…so there would be witnesses if they shot us." He nodded.

"I think you're right," he admitted. "These guys don't care a damn about our Contract. They were sent to protect Dagur and if they had found us and he was still alive, they would have disposed of us to save him. When bodies are found riddled with bullets and there is a convenient terrorist to blame, no one is going to bother who actually fired the rounds." Staring at the floor, she nodded slowly.

"I hate this," she murmured. "Who was protecting Dagur-and why?" She looked up. "Why would you want to protect a terrorist?"

"He either has some hold over you-or provides something you want," Hiccup said thoughtfully, idly picking at a seam on his coveralls. "So who gained from Dagur being…Dagur?" She smiled.

"I'll have Fish and Toothless look into it," she promised. "And I'll get Spitelout to have you put under our custody…" The hitman gave shrug.

"No offence-but I can't see your stick-up-his-arse boss making an effort to get me back from ASS when he's involved in a deal that has him paying me 400K and letting me walk free," he pointed out.

"Unless I find out your middle name first," she reminded him and he shrugged.

"Well, I have already completed the Contract so I'm not sure you can really guess any more," he suggested but she gave him a small nudge with her elbow.

"I think until this is sorted out, the Contract isn't completed," she reminded him. "I mean, how can you deny yourself the amusement of me making all sorts of stupid guesses for your middle name, Mr Night Fury?" He chuckled.

"It is pretty funny," he admitted, nudging her back slightly.

"Oh is it?" she challenged him playfully and he nodded.

"Yup!" he smirked

"Oh, it is so on!" she said determinedly, though she was still smiling. "How about…Hjalmar, Hagbard, Herko, Hugo or Hilarius?" He burst out laughing.

"None of them are my name-but it is hilarious," he admitted as she inspected his face, seeing his eyes twinkle with amusement. Giving a small, self-conscious smile, she rested her hand on his.

"Are you alright?" she asked him gently and he looked into her eyes, the smile dropping from his bruised features. He shook his head.

"I killed him…but it hasn't changed a thing," he admitted. "My family are still dead, I'm a fugitive and am in prison and ASS…well, they want to talk to me about my previous clients and who helped me…"

"Again…why?" she murmured. "I mean-that is definitely the realm of AIB. Dagur's antics were BHS territory. Why are they interested in what you know, Hiccup?" He looked up.

"Maybe they're worried if I've found out who was backing Dagur?" he suggested, concern entering his gaze.

"Fish could find that out," she murmured, chewing her lip. "He's downloaded everything from Dagur's system before he wiped it and the twins blew it sky high. And no-we didn't tell the Director or anyone that tidbit of information…"

"I'm not sure they're going to be that civilised," Hiccup said quietly. "I mean, I am facing centuries in prison for my crimes, I don't actually exist because as far as everyone is concerned, I died two years ago and I messed up whatever they're embroiled in. I don't trust them." She looked at him and heard the inflection: this was the young man she had seen play pool in Gobber's bar, the young man who 'knew' the Night Fury and who had finished off the biker gang without hesitation…the same young man who had been saved by her and saved her in equal measure. And this was the closest she would get to an appeal for help from him.

"Get up," she said, rising to her feet. He raised an eyebrow.

"Okay," he said, rising and looked at her. "I trust you," he added as she grabbed his hand and hauled him to the door, then hammered on it.

"Open the door!" she yelled. There was a pause.

"Wow-I should have thought of that myself," he commented sarcastically. There was a pause and the key turned in the lock and the door opened. He stared.

"You know-all you need is more…Astrid," she told him with a smug smile and walked through. "He's coming with me," she told Mulch. There was a pause as the little man stared at her in shock.

"I don't think we can allow that," he said amiably. "He's a prisoner of ASS and they have explained that he is an enemy of the state and needs to be explicitly debriefed…" Beside her, Hiccup stiffened and Astrid glared at the small man.

"He is a prisoner of BHS. _I_ captured him and _I_ am taking him for interrogation," she snapped. "Have the papers ready at the door and I can sign then while your friend fetches his things…" Mulch looked ready to protest but Astrid leaned forward and glared into his eyes. "Are you arguing with me? Because this prisoner is mine and I am not having ASS mess around in BHS matters. Their job is solely Presidential Security and not debriefing the players in a Homeland Security mission to end a known terrorist and dismantle his organisation!" The little man backed up a step and then looked over at Hiccup.

"I wouldn't cross her," he advised the warder. "She doesn't ever give up." Mulch gave a sigh.

"I wouldn't want to be in your shoes, then," he commented as he led them through security. Hiccup shrugged as he walked self-consciously through the prison, his bare feet soundless on the concrete floor and goosebumps rising on his pale, lightly freckled arms.

"I'd just appreciate shoes," he commented.

oOo

"What in Thor's name do you mean by bringing that murderer here?" Director Jorgensen yelled as Astrid sat at her desk, finishing her report. "And why is there a request for a money order for $400000 made out to Hiccup H Haddock in my tray?"

"Sir, I have every reason to believe that the mission is not over," she said firmly, seeing Fishlegs and Snotlout look up from their desks. Snotlout looked like he was playing online gaming while Fishlegs was surreptitiously typing into two separate computers and was clearly still trying to hack Dagur's encrypted files. "The presence of ASS is highly anomalous and it is clear that Dagur had close contacts within the topmost echelons of the government. It is likely that he would not emerge from their care alive…and we had a deal."

"What deal?" Spitelout sneered, pacing back and forth, his hands folded behind his back and pallid blue eyes nailing her uncomfortably.

"The Contract we took with Night Fury to end Dagur," she reminded him.

"The mission I vetoed?" he asked her sarcastically. "I seem to recall ordering him sent to the Hopeless jail."

"Is that why he was sent in completely the opposite direction…towards Freezing to Death?" she asked him. "Either you were sending him away from the appropriate place to a secure location where enemies of the state rot off any Human Rights radar…or someone intercepted your orders and snatched him. And none of that is at all reassuring."

"I make the decisions about what is going to happen in this department, Agent Hofferson!" Spitelout growled as she stood up. "And I distinctly recall telling you he was being locked up and the mission was dead."

"I obtained higher authority," she told him clearly. He paused in his pacing and stared at her.

"You did what?" he hissed. She looked up.

"I felt that you dismissed the mission out of prejudice without proper evaluation of the operational parameters and the probabilities of success-so I requested a review by the Security Minister," she said calmly. "She agreed with my plan and accepted that it was the best option we had left when every other mission failed. It seems her instincts were correct because Dagur is now dead. And thus we owe Night Fury his fee."

"Unless she guesses his name," Snotlout piped up as she winced and then swung her head round to glare at him.

"How the Helheim did you…?' she muttered.

"Not such a muttonhead, am I?" he snarked back. "It was obviously more than a game. What's the H stand for?" She face-palmed.

" _Now_ he has to show some glimmer of intelligence," she muttered.

"What?" Spitelout snapped. "Can't you just look up his service record?"

"Sanitised," Astrid reported. "And the hard copy is missing."

"So what was the deal?" Spitelout demanded. There was a pause.

"He completes the contract and ends Dagur for us…and we pay $400K," she revealed. "If I guess the name, however, he gets nothing and we get to arrest and lock him up for as long as we desire for his crimes." Spitelout nodded, his eyes narrowing.

"Then what are you doing here?" he demanded. "We will keep him on ice while you find out the answer." He paused. "But I have a deadline. In two days, the President wishes to speak with the man who has rid the Archipelago of the scourge of the Berserker terrorism." Astrid looked over at Fishlegs and the husky agent gave a slight nod. She had been thinking about the last avenue open to them and hoped that she was right. She knew that none of his friends would betray his secret to her…though she had a suspicion that his nearest and dearest would inadvertently lead her to the answer.

"I'll have the answer by then," she said. "And I know where to find it."

oOo

It was the third and final cemetery in BogThorpe but Astrid was showing remarkable patience as she entered the quiet space, noting the neat rows of pale grey stones, lined uniformly and the caretaker, hoeing a flower bed quietly by a mausoleum. She nodded and the greying woman nodded back, then returned to her ministrations. Quietly, Astrid walked along the line of stones and then back and forth, checking every one for the name she was seeking-but not finding it. Then she sighed. It had been a hunch, that Bertha would bury her daughter back home but it seemed that Astrid's instincts had been wrong. Sighing, she paused on the neat white gravel path and looked across the quiet place, willows and yews framing the manicured space. It was a beautiful spot to rest and she had been sure…

"You look lost." The caretaker's voice broke through her reverie and she looked up and smiled at the older woman. She was dressed in dungarees, a plaid shirt and work boots, her gnarled hands strong around the hoe and face half-hidden under a floppy hat.

"I was looking for someone and I was sure she would be buried here," she admitted, failing to keep the disappointment from her voice. "She and her son and husband all died a couple of years ago…" The old woman paused and then her face cleared.

"You could try the old section," she suggested, indicating to a fenced off area behind the mausoleum. "Some of the oldest families are still allowed to bury family members there." Astrid's head snapped up.

_Bertha Bogby is the last of the ancient ruling line of BogThorpe._

"Thank you," she said quietly, keeping her excitement from her voice. It was her last chance but it felt right. Then she looked at the woman. "I wanted to pay my respects-she did something that really helped someone very close to me." The caretaker nodded and turned away as the agent walked slowly to the fenced off area and the first stone she saw read 'ELSIE VIOLET BOGBY'. She smiled: finally, she was in the right area.

Suddenly, she was in front of three newer stones and her throat froze as she stared at the central one:

**CAMILLA BOGBY HADDOCK**

**BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER**

To the left was a very poignant stone:

**SAMUEL STOICK HADDOCK**

**AGE 18 MONTHS**

And, holding her breath, she looked at the third stone and gave a shuddering sigh.

**HICCUP HORRENDOUS HADDOCK III**

**BELOVED SON, FATHER AND HUSBAND**

All the dates ended two and a half years earlier and Astrid crouched down and stared at the third stone.

_Honestly, my middle name is Horrendous and you'll never guess it._

"You smug bastard, _"_ she said softly and smiled. "Your name is 'Horrendous'. You told me knowing I would imagine it was something terrible and I would make all the most ludicrous guesses under the sun." And then she reached out. "They know you're alive because there was no body. You're alive, Hiccup-and now I have your name, we don't have to pay your ludicrous price for the Contract." She sighed. "And the Director will be determined that you go to jail for your crimes. That was the deal."

And then she turned to the central stone and reached a hand out to touch the words.

"Camilla-I wanted to thank you," she murmured softly. "I know you set the Sanctuary up when you were only eighteen with your Mom and I know you did it because you wanted somewhere safe for abused and terrified victims of domestic abuse and sexual violence. And I want to thank you because…my sister benefited from your help. I doubt you would have recalled Beth Hofferson, but she was desperate and at breaking point when you helped her…after she got away from _him_. I know you were a counsellor and you still helped in the Sanctuary when she was there. Thanks to you and Bertha, she's safe and happy, living under a different name on the mainland. And that was why I always support the Sanctuary, how I knew where to take those women, that first time and more recently." And then she sighed.

"And now I know exactly what happened and what broke him," she added and sat back on her heels. "And he avenged you. He killed those who caused your death. Yours-and your son. There was no accident. It was an execution for your husband's service…and there is really only one person who has the access and the authority to order it. And no one-and especially not Dagur-should have been able to find out who did the deed…or who you were." She drew her hand back into her lap and then she pulled out a small posy of forget-met-nots from her bag, laying them on Camilla's grave. "I know to protect him, he had to make you invisible, to make the world forget you…but no one whose life you touched ever will…and I won't either…for Beth…or for him."

She got to her feet.

"But now I know his name…and that gives me a decision to make," she said quietly, staring at the stones-including the memorial of a man who still breathed. The man who had saved her life, whose arms had wrapped around her in despair when he had been tortured, whose emerald eyes had twinkled in humour as they had sparred…and who had kissed her. Then she turned away, carefully closing the gate to the fenced area behind her. "The agent in me says he's a murderer and really should pay for his crimes…but the human being…asks what I would do if I lost everything? How far would I go to avenge the crime?"

oOo

The meeting was set up in an out-of-the-way destination hotel, Caldera Cay, set ten miles north of Berk amid extensive landscaped grounds dotted with stone statues of dragons. The manager, Mala Queen, was waiting as the agents and their guests arrived in two sleek black service Mercedes. She was a tall, statuesque woman with page-cut strawberry blonde hair a calm face and cool green eyes. Her manner was reserved and regal as she inclined her head to greet her visitors, almost like a monarch deigning to acknowledge visiting inferiors.

Astrid stared at the four storey sprawling rust stone building, built in the gran Neo-Gothic style of Victorian Country Houses, with a large central house, containing the Ball Room, restaurants, kitchens, meeting rooms, offices and lounges and bars flanked by extensive wings that swept away, holding grand suites, boutique rooms and everything in between. The Spa, swimming pool and driving range were behind the hotel, signposted from the front as 'Throk's Oasis'.

Snotlout was already moaning-though not especially loudly since his father was with them, Director Jorgensen was grim and focussed, his pale blue eyes locked on the hotel ahead and watching the hitman in the mirror. Sitting next to him, Astrid noted that Hiccup was very still, his eyes focussed on Spitelout-who he didn't trust. Since she had retrieved him after he had completed the mission, he had been detained in HQ because the President had expressly demanded to speak with the man who had completed the daring mission and freed the Archipelago of the scourge of Dagur and his gang. As she observed him, she could see he was tense, being unarmed and surrounded by enemies-but Astrid had promised that she would ensure that he was treated fairly.

And surprisingly, he had accepted that, his green eyes inspecting her face and his lips tilting in a wry smile.

"I trust you," he told her, his tone cautious. "None of the others-except Fish, maybe-but I trust you. Please don't disappoint me, Astrid. It would be a real blow."

 _A Horrendous one,_ she thought treacherously and then nodded. In the end, they had resorted to completing their mission the old fashioned way and Hiccup had taken out the target-though not before his cryptic final words which Fishlegs had made a point of telling her when she had returned to the department.

" _You can't touch me. I was promised…_ "

Promised by who? And what?

"Fishlegs-have you completed the search I requested?" Astrid asked softly. There was a pause.

"I have." The tone was guarded. "And the results, I suspect, are not a surprise to you."

"Have you brought evidence?" she asked softly.

"Of course," he said easily. "And eyes."

"A dragon would be a better bet," she commented and he chuckled.

"Just choose your moment," he advised her warily. She nodded and opened the door, exiting with one smooth motion as they pulled up, with Hiccup emerging warily from the other side. Of course, his wrists were handcuffed but he was smart in his brown leather jacket, boots, green shirt and jeans, his cynical face watching as Snotlout and Spitelout emerged-with another four agents along with Fishlegs clambering out of the second car. Mala walked forward, offering her hand to the Director and his firm grip enclosed hers.

"Welcome, Director," she said, her pleasant voice warm with precise diction. "The President is already waiting in the Ballroom with his entourage." Spitelout nodded and glanced over to his son.

"Bring him," he said. "Let's see what the President of the Archipelago makes of this murderer."

But as Hiccup was led forward, through the sumptuous surroundings of the hotel, all he could see were the agents walking with him-and the black-clad agents of ASS lining the passageway to the Ballroom…and the unmistakeable sensation that he was walking to his own execution…


	20. Contractual Obligations

**Twenty: Contractual Obligations**

The Ballroom of Caldera Cay was a magnificent space, a hundred feet long and fifty wide with the ceiling a dizzying forty feet above the intricate inlaid mahogany and ebony floor, the stucco relief work picked out in gold leaf and the three chandeliers. A large rosewood table was placed in the centre of the ballroom with a magnificent Norman chair-almost a throne-placed at the head of the table. The lights were all on, despite the fact that it was in the middle of the day, though the day was grey and cool and the room was ringed by ASS. At the head of the table, the powerful shape of the President stood, his familiar shape with the dark skin, jet hair in dreadlocks and the charcoal grey suit, the scarlet sash of Presidency slung over his left shoulder where the arm ended just beyond the shoulder. The man's face was marked with scars from the same terrorist attack that had cost the man his arm when he was younger, his dark eyes cold and his beard small and braided.

Behind him, the Vice-President was a more compact though powerful shape, his hazel eyes frighteningly intelligent and dark hair cropped short, his manicured beard neat. He was in a perfect black suit with a deep grey shirt. Beside him was the Security Minister, a tall women with green eyes and bright red hair, pulled off her broad and determined face into a high ponytail. Dressed in cream, she cut a stunning figure And behind her was the Foreign Minister, a tall powerful man with shaven head, deep hazel eyes and a stripe of beard on his large chin. Dressed in the same black as the Vice-President, his brother. the man cracked his fists as the group approached.

Spitelout bowed his head and the President beckoned him closer with his remaining right hand.

"Thank you for coming, Director Jorgensen," the man said, his deep gruff voice familiar from his telecasts.

"President Bludvist, the honour is mine," Spitelout said in a respectful voice. "BHS is always at your disposal. Though I was astonished that you wanted to speak with this…man…" Drago Bludvist's heavy black brows dipped as he looked over his hooked nose at the tall, lean shape of the hitman.

"Why should you be surprised?" Bludvist asked. "He achieved what you could not. He possessed the ruthlessness to complete the mission and assassinate the terrorist Dagur Oswaldson. He is a credit to Berk." His voice had risen and the way he said 'Berk' made Hiccup's skin crawl.

"But this man is a criminal, a man who kills for money!" Spitelout protested. "He's a disgrace. He is wanted for multiple murders and should spend the rest of his life in jail."

"I think you miss the point, Director," Vice-President Viggo Grimborn explained in his smooth, measured voice. "In this case, the end very much justified the means. Where an individual deviates so violently from societal norms and is so resistant to all legal and reasonable attempts to bring him to justice, sometime extreme measures can be justified."

"And…are you saying this was acceptable?" Spitelout asked gruffly. "That we should use state-sponsored assassins to deal with problems that the legal services can't deal with?"

Astrid stiffened, her eyes flicking sideways and inspecting the tall, auburn-haired shape. She knew about Hiccup's previous life as a Special Ops sniper, assigned to deal with people that the government deemed too dangerous to be allowed to live. And while she realised much of his work would be in combat situations with the army, providing cover for his colleagues, the knowledge that he had been used to assassinate Oswald Oswaldson, a man who was definitely a traitor and who had committed terrible crimes against people in the Berserker territories…but who had been an opponent of Bludvist in the Presidential elections was chilling, not reassuring. Suddenly the Vice-President's words had a very strong resonance and she found her stomach feeling incredibly unsettled at the implications. Was this what these men believed-that problems, difficult situations should be dealt with by just killing the man? By disposing of anything that they found a threat?

Hiccup's eyes flicked over to meet hers, reading her uncertainly and his brows dipped. He knew what he was and what he had done, knew the moral uncertainties of his orders and had followed them, like the good solider he had been. And what had that earned him? The deaths of everyone he loved and a bullet in the back before being pitched into a shallow grave. And all of that was for his blind obedience in following the heinous orders that had been given by this man.

"Director Jorgensen, perhaps you wish to step outside?" the Vice President said coldly. "I don't think we need you here while we congratulate the Night Fury." There was a frosty pause as Spitelout stared at him, then snorted and turned, marching for the door. Snotlout, Fishlegs and the other agents turned and swiftly headed for the door-but Astrid stayed firmly at Hiccup's side. "I believe you were asked to leave, my dear," Grimborn pointed out in a patronising tone.

"Respectfully, I must decline," she said firmly. "I'm staying with Hiccup. I captured him and brought him into the mission. He is under my custody so I cannot relinquish him."

"And I would prefer her to stay, sir," Hiccup piped up his eyes sweeping over the men facing him. "Special Agent Hofferson has been my contact and my handler throughout this mission and I insist that she is here." There was an awkward pause for the shortest time-and then Viggo Grimborn gave a false smile.

"Of course," he said. "It may be instructive for this promising agent to understand how such complex matters are resolved." He nodded and the President took his seat, followed by the others, leaving Hiccup and Astrid standing.

"Now, Night Fury, I think I owe you thanks for ridding the Archipelago of this threat..." Bludvist began.

oOo

Acting as staff members at Caldera Cay wasn't much of a challenge for the twins, for though they were prone to insanity and pranks, they were capable of focus and stealth. Tuffnut was carrying a pile of sheets and Ruffnut was balancing a stack of pillows as they wandered easily along the hall behind the Ballroom, their black uniforms blending into the rest of the domestic staff.

"Hey!" A sharp voice snapped out and they shared a look, then turned round. A tall man with short red hair and cool honey eyes stared at them. He was wearing the tan uniform of the Fitness Centre 'Throk's Oasis' and wore the badge 'Hello! My name is…THROK.' "What are you doing here?"

"Delivering these," Tuff said as if it was obvious. "We were instructed exactly this place."

"Instructed?" Throw asked, his voice deeper and more distrustful. "By who?"

"Special Agent Eretson," Ruff offered with a grin. "You know-the really handsome one with black hair and those oh-so-cool tattoos on his chin…"

"Oh Thor…I thought you were sweet on Fishman?" her twin asked her. She sighed.

"I am…but Special Agent sounds so sexy…and those tattoos are seriously hot. And I noticed he seems to have the cutest ass…"

"You do realise that Snotlout is a Special Agent as well…and he's the opposite of sexy…?"

"Well-he is pretty buff…but I know what you mean…"

Throk stared at the pair. He thought he recognised all of the staff at Caldera Cay but Mala did tend to hire new staff as the seasons rotated and with the conference, there had been a few new hirings. He nodded curtly: he hated disorder and everything had been thrown in the air with the visit of the President and his entourage.

"Carry on," he commented briskly and stalked off towards the exit. The twins stared after him-and then ducked into the service passage they had been directed to by Toothless.

"Wow-he's got a stick up his ass," Tuff commented as they dumped the bed linen and scurried up the passage to the narrow winding stair that led to the roof space, carrying the ordnance they had been hiding in the linens. Ruff sniggered.

"Seems to be a lot of it about," she admitted, touching her hand to the com in her ear as her brother wrestled the hatch open to allow them into the crawl space with their weapons. "How's it going, T?"

" _Well, he's in with the bigwigs now,_ " Toothless reported. " _And they've sent out the other agents. They wanted to send Astrid out but she refused._ "

"Good," Ruff commented.

" _We're in position,_ " Fishlegs reported over the com. He had swapped out his standard issue com for the special model Toothless had supplied-immune to the ASS jammers and able to eavesdrop the meeting through Astrid's and Hiccup's devices.

" _Why are we in the john?_ " Snotlout complained. There was an audible sigh from Fishlegs.

" _Because we had to get away from the Director and the others,_ " he tried to explain. " _And no one can argue. When you gotta go, you gotta go._ "

" _And we really gotta go back,_ " Snotlout protested.

" _If you want to prove you're actually a good agent and want to solve this case, you'll stay,_ " Fishlegs told him sternly. " _Or I will have to hit you over the head and tie you up until it's over_." There was a pause.

" _Hmm…so if I help you and we solve this, people won't think I'm a muttonhead any more?_ " Snotlout asked thoughtfully.

" _Well, I'm not promising…_ " Fishlegs began.

"Yes! Definitely!" Tuffnut interrupted. There was a pause.

" _I'll do it. And who knows-maybe Astrid will finally realise how awesome and manly I really am,_ " Snotlout offered unwisely.

"You keep telling yourself that," Ruff muttered as she paused and silently pulled out the stunner. There was an ASS agent stationed in the roof space just in case some foreign and hostile agent tried to pull an ambush on the President…but what he wasn't expecting was to be shot five times by the twins. The man slumped unconscious as the twins crab-crawled over the rafters and moved the snoring man aside. Unexpectedly, he had a Valkyrie sniper rifle set up and silently, Tuff peered down the sights. He beckoned his sister to peer through as well.

The cross-hairs were centred on Hiccup's head.

"I think this guy was going to make sure that NF doesn't get a chance to reveal what he knows," he murmured. "And probably Astrid as well. And then the bigwigs will scurry away and it will get brushed aside as a failed assassination attempt…and no one will ever get caught."

" _What?_ " Toothless asked irritably.

"ASS agent planning to blow H to Helheim," Ruff reported.

" _Firing at the President is treason,_ " Toothless added. " _Stand by, guys…but leave the rifle alone-and don't touch it. It's evidence…_ " Ruff and Tuff smirked.

"Or it could be very useful," the added.

" _Stick to the plan,_ " Toothless sighed. " _Are the cameras set up?_ "

"Yes, Mommy," Ruff snarked. "No one will be able to even pick their nose without half a dozen cameras picking it up from every angle."

" _First of all-bleurgh! Secondly…that's not why we put the cameras in…but I've switched them on…and we're getting images. So the anti-jamming algorithm is working…_ " Toothless murmured and leaned forward, peering at his screen. " _You know, the only variable is what Fury does…because he has every right to react. And if he does…the ASS agents will kill him_."

"Not if he kills them first," Tuff smirked.

oOo

Facing the President was almost surreal for Hiccup Haddock, the man also known as the hitman Night Fury. During his time in the army, he had been a good soldier, following orders frequently given or authorised directly by the President. His oath of allegiance named the President just behind the Archipelago in his list of priorities and he had served them with every ounce of his strength and skill…until he was betrayed.

And though he now knew that former General Alvin Utstoett had turned to Dagur's service, there was a nagging doubt in his mind that he wasn't the person who had betrayed Hiccup and his family. Because he was very certain that Alvin wouldn't have approached Dagur on the off chance the man would be willing to pay him for the intelligence-his words had indicated he was offered the money by Dagur who already knew who he was. No-Hiccup was convinced that someone had already told Dagur who he was and Alvin's treachery was simply a by-product. The President looked over at his group.

"Viggo, Atali, Ryker-could you kindly step outside and join the Cabinet for the discussion of the Trade and Security Negotiations with the EU? Viggo-would you please chair until I join you?" the President asked reasonably and the Vice-President bowed his head wordlessly, heading for the door. His brother followed but the Security Minister paused.

"Will you be safe, sir?" she asked thoughtfully, her eyes trailing over the shapes of the agent and the handcuffed hitman. Bludvist lifted his hand with a smile.

"I have the Secret Service here to protect me-and Special Agent Hofferson as well," he reassured the red-haired woman. "I will be fine." She nodded curtly and strode out for the door, her tall shape brisk and straight. The President watched her leave and only looked back at the hitman and the Special Agent once the door had slammed behind her. The man's cruel face twisted in a smile that didn't touch his cold eyes. "So…you finally managed to end Dagur the Deranged," he began. Hiccup nodded.

"Yes, sir," he said in a respectful voice. "It was a well-planned mission run via BHS." The President raised an eyebrow, his cold gaze sweeping over the wary shape of Astrid.

"And yet I was under the impression that the mission was vetoed by the Director," he said mildly.

"I could never understand that reasoning, sir," Astrid replied boldly. "After all, the man is a terrorist and has killed hundreds. And while the obvious solution-bombing his compound in the centre of Berserk City-was inconceivable, a covert operation using a player unknown to the system made perfect sense."

"Even when the covert player was in fact a wanted criminal, an assassin?" Bludvist asked pointedly.

"Who better to infiltrate the organisation of a man who has an extensive criminal empire, who deals in drugs and people and weapons and death? And who seems to be one step ahead of every operation and plan we devised?" Astrid replied, her eyes brilliant as she stared unflinchingly into his face. "It was becoming very obvious, sir, that there was a leak in the Department because we could never get close."

"I am not sure that I am comfortable with the use of a man who should be locked up for centuries for his crimes being treated as an agent and allowed to walk free…" the President told her, eyeing Hiccup with mild disdain.

"Even when that man was a decorated officer?" Astrid asked. There was a pause.

"That was not in the files," Bludvist commented.

"No-once I dug myself out of the shallow grave and recovered from the bullet in the back that Dagur put there, I erased my existence and set out to play my vengeance," Hiccup said quietly. "I was in the Heindallr Division, sir-one of the Black Ops Guardians. I served in Afghanistan and Iraq. I fought in the Battle of Itchy Armpit. And I was the man who sent to assassinate Oswald Oswaldson, Dagur's father."

_Was it his imagination that the man's eyes widened in brief and almost-imperceptible shock?_

"No such mission happened," the President said flatly. Frowning, the hitman inspected the man facing him.

"It was a Presidential Order," Hiccup told him flatly. "To assassinate a man who was his rival in the Presidential elections."

"It was not an order I gave," Bludvist growled, his tone angry.

"But you are extremely strict on law enforcement and security, sir," Astrid reminded him. "And there was persuasive evidence that Oswald was a man who posed a clear and present threat to security within the Archipelago. He had been personally responsible for the destruction of villages where people spoke out against his despotic rule of the region as governor. He was building his own army and following an agenda that strongly suggested a coup attempt."

"You know, I was struggling to work out what Dagur could offer to someone so that he would be worth protecting," Hiccup said, his eyes flicking over to the tall and buff shape of Special Agent Eretson. "ASS were dispatched to make sure that Norbet the Nutjob was killed as Dagur requested-probably not realising that I had already been dispatched to do the job as a test by Dagur. I guess he didn't bother to let you guys know. And the fact that you people suddenly turn up when we finally take out his organisation, claiming you were there to protected a 'valued asset' tells me that Dagur was under your protection."

"That's a bold allegation to make," Bludvist said in a mocking voice.

"Indeed it is, sir," Hiccup said sarcastically. "But regrettably, it's a valid one. Dagur was insane-furious at the Archipelago for murdering his father and determined to make the people pay for his loss. He spread chaos and destruction-and posed a valid and ongoing terrorist threat that the authorities seemed incapable of dealing with. A perfect accomplice for your hard line stance on crime and security."

"You were elected on a platform of 'tough on crime and the only person fit to defend the Archipelago'," Astrid continued, her eyes fixed on the President. "What better than to have a valid threat, a bogeyman to threaten the people with so that they vote through your hard line proposals on security, your restrictions on freedoms and your laws which transform the country that voted you into office into a police state."

"With ASS as your personal secret police," Hiccup said, looking over more pointedly at Eretson, seeing the man look slightly uncomfortable. "Not protecting the President but crushing all opposition."

"Encouraging those who will come with you-and destroying those who won't," Astrid finished.

There was a pause…and then Bludvist began laughing, a low, menacing chuckle, his hand clapping in the table.

"I am impressed," he said mockingly. "With that kind of imagination, you really should work in the creative industry…" Sharing a quick look with Astrid, Hiccup gave a shrug.

"It is an interesting story…but I am not sure that you are aware that telecommunications leave footprints," he said. "My team have traced communications from Director Jorgensen to your personal line. And subsequent calls from the same line to Dagur's line-at the country house in Hysteria that we hadn't previously known about. Until we destroyed it."

"You _dared_ to investigate my personal communications…?" Bludvist growled.

"Homeland Security is tasked to investigate threats to the Archipelago people-no matter the origin," Astrid added. "Even if the origin is the occupant of the Granite Office…"

"I have heard enough of these wild fantasies!" the President snapped, turning his head to glance over at Agent Eretson. "Escort Special Agent Hofferson out. Make a note on her record for her admirable tenacity and independence. And make sure all her desires for promotion are permanently thwarted." Then he looked back at Hiccup. "You, on the other hand, are an easier prospect. You're a wanted criminal and a man who no longer exists. So I shall ensure that you return to that state-permanently!"

"You do of course realise that Dagur's records explicitly reveal the links to you-President Bludvist?" Hiccup asked him coolly. "Fortunately my friends are better than you imagined and cracked the encryption of Dagur's records. Of course, military grade encryption is pretty unlikely for a gangster and terrorist…but not if he got it from his buddy in the Granite Office…" There was a pause.

"Eretson-you should have killed them in Hysteria," Bludvist growled, rising to his feet. "It's not a mistake I intend to repeat. DO IT!"

There was a pause and Hiccup gave a smile, hearing the twins giggling over his com.

"Sorry-were you expecting a sniper to shoot me from the roof space?" he asked pointedly as he saw Agent Eretson's eyes widen. "I am disappointed. Apart from being the only person here qualified to use a Valkyrie, my friends have ensured that your sniper has lost interest in the proceedings. Though others haven't…since our coms are immune to ASS jamming…" Bludvist stumbled back.

"TREASON!" he yelled. "Kill them!" The ASS agents pulled their guns-as the unmistakeable report of the Valkyrie echoed round the room and a chunk of the table just in front of the President vanished.

"Tuffnut…" Hiccup growled. Two objects dropped from the roof and exploded, thick smoke billowing through the room.

"SMOKEY BUTTS!" Tuff's voice echoed from amid the rafters as Hiccup slammed into Astrid and they hit the ground, both covering their mouths against the Smokebreath grenades. Bullets ripped over their heads as the ASS agents fired where they had been standing. The hitman gave a grin.

"So someone is trying to kill me-wow, that feels better," Hiccup said, his emerald eyes sparkling. "Can we lose the bracelets, Astrid?"

"Once we're out of the line of fire," she told him shortly, coughing slightly.

"Ah…so in a couple of years," he retorted. She stared at him.

"You seem ridiculously chipper," she commented as they crawled under the table towards the door…but as the smoke billowed, they could see two ASS agents blocking the way.

"Looks like someone wants us dead," he reminded her. "And that's a lot more reassuring than being locked up by Director Jorgensen. There's a hatch on that wall leading towards the kitchen."

"Smoke's thinning," Astrid pointed out as they made a run for it. Bullets zinged around them as they dived through the hatch and into the quiet corridor to the kitchen. Instantly, Astrid was on her knees, fumbling with the keys and releasing him. Rubbing his wrists, he grinned and gave a sigh of relief.

"You know, no law-abiding person asks public security officers to kill two unarmed people in cold blood," he pointed out.

" _That's true_ ," Fishlegs commented over the com.

" _Heading your way,_ " Toothless said. " _And I've started broadcasting the footage on all channels…_ "

"Which won't be worth anything if we're dead…" Hiccup commented as they scrambled up. Astrid grabbed a gun from the back of her waistband and handed it to him.

"Let's get out of here," she said, pulling her service Glock from her holster. The doors behind them exploded open and the agents stared at them-before Hiccup shot them.

"That feels so much better," he said as they sprinted off, crashing through the doors into the large kitchens of the hotel. Half a dozen chefs looked up from their prep work for the sumptuous luncheon that had been planned for the Presidential party. "Ooh-lobster!" Hiccup grinned madly, stealing a cherry tomato as he chased through. "Sorry…sorry…that smells divine!" he added as he dodged through the room and vanished out through the back with Astrid in tow. The blonde agent was still very focussed but there was a sense of unreality that the sarcastic and obsessed hitman had transformed into the man leading the escape. Hiccup had avenged his wife and son and a weight had lifted from his shoulders-and though he was still being chased, they were almost at the end of the line, with the real culprit in their line of sights. And though he seemed to be the President of the Archipelago, she hadn't actually seen Hiccup more cheerful.

The doors behind them slammed open and two more ASS agents appeared, firing at the two fugitives but Hiccup ducked, throwing himself backwards and shooting them both before he landed on his back. Astrid ran forward, jamming the heavy bin against the doors and blocking them. Then she turned to see him wince.

"Ow…" he protested as she stuck out her hand. "That looks so much easier in the movies…"

"You do realise we're both fugitives now?" she asked him and there was a pause. "Guys-where are you?"

" _We're in the bathroom,_ " Fishlegs whispered loudly over the com. There was a pause as Hiccup achingly got up.

"Why in Thor's name are you in there?" he asked.

" _That's what I asked,_ " Snotlout protested, his voice echoey.

"Get out there and make sure the Director gets to the Vice President and the Security Minister," Astrid ordered them. "You need a senior civil servant, the VP and one other senior minister to impeach the President and remove him from office pending independent judicial review…" There was a pause as Hiccup looked over at her, his eyes flicking briefly to the door to the kitchen.

"How the Thor…?" he asked and she smiled smugly.

"Wouldn't want to make a _horrendous_ mistake with the process when we have to speak to the VP," she told him without thinking, seeing his emerald eyes widen slightly as he caught the word.

"Astrid?" he said, his voice suddenly toneless. "Have…?" There was a crash and the bin jolted. The doors to the kitchen opened a fraction and Astrid threw her weight against the bin, slamming it back against the doors.

"Now? You want to talk about it _now_? I mean…can it wait?" she asked. "Because I think we need to keep on the move…" He nodded and they sprinted out the back and headed in the direction of the sports club as the door eased open enough to allow three ASS men to emerge, led by a tall, lean man with dark skin, a scar and cold cruel eyes. His hair was cropped short and he moved with a measured grace as he stared after the fugitives.

"Ilvo-go after them and tell me where they are heading," he ordered. "Lando-with me!"

"Yes, Krogan," the men murmured and obeyed as the man glared in the direction the fugitives had run off and then stalked back through the kitchen. But he had barely passed when the twins popped up, both wearing kitchen whites and carrying various weapons-including the sniper rifle-in a large cloth bag.

"He looks like one mean dude," Ruff commented, frowning with concern. Sensing her worry, her brother socked her shoulder.

"One ugly dude," he amended. "And ASS seem to be acting like some sort of a secret police force…"

"While we're an even more secret anti-police force," Ruff reminded him. "What do you want us to do?"

" _Stay safe,_ " Hiccup said breathlessly as they sprinted towards Throk's Oasis. " _And make sure the ASS don't capture the rest of the cabinet._ "

" _What will you be doing?_ " Toothless asked.

" _Trying not to get killed…and then making sure the person who helped Dagur answers for his crimes…_ " Hiccup told him. " _Do whatever you can…because this is no longer about me. The whole Archipelago is at stake_."

oOo

Arriving at Throk's Oasis, Hiccup panted into the very elegant waiting area, the large soft chairs decorated with linen covers and large, squashy pillows, pictures of fit people doing vigorous exercise on the walls and filled with the gentle sound of running water. Gasping, he snatched a bottle of water and poured half down his throat, dumping the rest on his head. The door slammed behind her as Astrid entered, chuckling as she got herself a bottle of water-and then Hiccup was facing her, his emerald eyes sparkling. He took her hand.

"What is my middle name?" he asked her breathlessly. She opened her mouth, looking into his handsome features and then she smiled. Everything she had learned out him-his bravery, his determination, his stubbornness in continuing when he had lost everything, the tiny glimpses of the man he had been before he lost everything-meant that she didn't want to lock him up and make him pay for his crimes.

"I have a Contract for you, Night Fury," she said firmly, not answering his question. "I think we find ourselves in a _horrendous_ situation and it's down to us to save the day. And I need a partner and someone I can rely on-and you are definitely that person. I mean, it would actually be _horrendous_ without you. What I am asking is your help in bringing Bludvist down. And in return…well, if you can guess _my_ middle name, you walk free with a clear record and your life ahead of you."

"And if I don't? Guess your name, I mean?" he asked her. She grinned.

"I'll be extremely _horrendously_ disappointed," she told him with a triumphant look in her eyes then stuck her hand out. "Do you agree, Hiccup _Horrendous_ Haddock?"

He grasped her hand and pulled her close, staring into her shining eyes with a small smirk lifting his lips. His stomach was fluttering with a sudden sense of shock and admiration along with an attraction he was finding harder and harder to resist: she was beautiful, clever, feisty and fierce…everything he wanted in a woman and his broken, shattered heart was limping back into life, reminding him that perhaps he could have a life in the future beyond the death of his family. Not that he would ever forget them or ever stop missing them, but now Dagur was dead, he could finally imagine the faintest possibility of a life ahead. And he suddenly wanted Astrid to be part of it.

"I certainly do, Special Agent Hofferson," he told her. "You have a deal." And then he kissed her.


	21. Hunting Fury

**Twenty One: Hunting Fury**

It was complete insanity but as Astrid felt Hiccup's lips meet hers, all she could do was kiss him back. He was the most remarkable man she knew and once she had gotten past his whip-smart sarcasm and hard exterior, he was sassy, funny, brave and brilliant. He was her match and she didn't want him to go to jail…but she knew she didn't want to lie to him either. So she had revealed that she knew his name and made him a very simple bargain in return: find her middle name. And since she was officially a civil servant, her name was listed on the Archipelago website as working in waste management and disposal.

His warm hands slid up her sides and a shiver ran through her: she was ticklish, though she had carefully never revealed that to her colleagues. Hiccup filled her senses, his warmth and closeness making her feel safe and wanted and her heart was galloping in her chest when she finally pulled back, gasping. She blinked, seeing his eyes slowly open and a smile lifting his lips.

"Whatever happened to a simple handshake?" she asked him breathlessly. He chuckled.

"You wanted me just to have shaken your hand?" he asked sassily and she shook her head urgently.

"Thor, no…" she replied urgently. "But you should have waited for me to ask…"

"Then why didn't you ask?" he teased her.

"Ah-hem…"

They looked up-to see the tall shape of a powerfully built and very tall man with short red hair, cool hazel eyes and a scowl. His name badge read 'Hello, my name is THROK' and the pair leapt apart.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, his deep voice suspicious.

"Honestly?" Hiccup asked him, weighing him up. "We're here…"

"…to see the Eruptodon!" Astrid cut in and Hiccup stared at her.

"Hey! Was about to be really genuinely honest!" he protested…but Throk walked briskly to the desk and dialled a number.

"Could you come to the Oasis urgently? We need the Great Protector!" he said and hung up, then looked back at Astrid. "Take a seat," he added, gesturing to the waiting area. Hiccup stared at him.

"You are aware that the Secret Service is trying to kill us?" he asked incredulously. The man nodded curtly.

"You will be safe here," he assured the pair and vanished round the back as Hiccup stared after him as he sat down.

"Care to explain?" he asked pointedly but Astrid gave a small smirk.

"Hey-you don't like me being the one with a mystery?" she teased him and he scowled.

"I have no problem with you having a mystery-as long as I know what it is," he said perfectly reasonably and she sniggered.

"Jealous," she muttered.

"Am not!"

"Am too!" she retorted and the pair suddenly broke out laughing. "Gods, we sound like the twins," she added and he caught her hand.

"However this turns out, I am grateful for everything that you've done," he told her honestly. "Really-I couldn't have done this without you…and if we do get out of this alive, I will ask you out." She gave a wide smile, squeezing his hand.

"While of course, I shouldn't go out with a wanted criminal, if you guess my name, you'll have a clean slate so I will be able to say yes…" she suggested to him. He huffed.

"You know…you got to know what my middle name started with," he reminded her.

"And your middle name was utterly weird," she riposted.

"Fine old Viking family name," he deadpanned. She glared at him.

"Mine is pretty normal. So you can guess away, Mr Night Fury-and I know I won't have a fraction of the amusement you got from my efforts!"

"You know, you really did put in a lot of effort," he complimented her and sighed. "I think you trawled the names starting with H in pretty much every culture! Lemme think…you've got a classic and traditional name, your family was a service family and you are a brave and ferocious Valkyrie and an amazing woman…Freya?"

Her eyes widened and she punched him hard in the shoulder.

"OWW!" he yelped, clutching at the point of impact. "Why-why would you do that?"

"You sneaky worm!" she snapped. "You knew all along! You must have seen my service ID or drivers license or…" He started to laugh.

"Oh my Thor…one guess was all it took!" he realised. "Freya? Really? Oh Gods, that is just perfect!" She punched his shoulder again and he whined.

"Ow! This is Hiccup abuse!" he protested.

"You deserve it-Horrendous!" she snapped. He laughed and caught her fist, pulling her close and pressing a quick kiss on her mouth.

"Mmm…no I don't…Freya…" he murmured.

"I was under the impression your name was Special Agent Astrid Hofferson," a calm, clear voice said and the started and looked up-into Mala Queen's cool green eyes. They hastily pulled away from one another and tried to look as if they hadn't been flirting.

"It is," Astrid said, jumping to her feet. "We're here to see the Eruptodon."

"I am the Great Protector," Mala confirmed. "But-forgive me-you don't look like AIS."

"I'm Homeland Security," Astrid confessed. "But my father and uncle were both in AIS and they told me the code in case I ended up in desperate need of help-from the group designed as Defenders of the Wing and Protectors of the Innocent." The tall woman inclined her head.

"Why would you require our assistance?" she asked coolly.

"Because the President is an amoral criminal who was supporting and helping the terrorist Dagur the Deranged so he could use the threat of the terrorist to push through his repressive reforms to consolidate his power and turn the Archipelago into a police state."

"And we uncovered it," Hiccup added. "Yeah, I'm the hitman Night Fury. I never miss. But before, I was the sniper who killed Dagur's father on the President's Orders…and who was betrayed to Dagur by the President. Dagur killed my parents, wife and child and shot me in the back, burying me in a shallow grave, left for dead. Drago Bludvist is as responsible for their deaths and for the deaths of Dagur's victims as Dagur was."

"And where is Dagur now?" Mala asked.

"Helheim," Astrid said flatly. "He took me hostage and buried me alive. Hiccup caught him and executed him…and then rescued me. He's a hero…and we need to remove Drago from office." Mala looked over at Throk.

"We would need some proof for this wild allegation," she told the blonde agent and Astrid sighed, then touched her com.

"Fish? Toothless? Could you forward the data on Dagur to console…" She peered over. "6132. As soon as you can please?"

" _On it,_ " Toothless assured her. " _You okay, my friend?_ "

"Better than okay," Hiccup smiled. "I actually feel slightly human. Of course, people are trying to kill me which is nice…but at least they're trying to kill me with Astrid so…"

There was a pause and a small chuckle.

" _Fury has a girlfriend!_ " Ruff sniggered.

"Oh Gods…" Hiccup muttered.

There was a beep and a document appeared on Throk's screen. He opened it and scanned the data, his thick red brows knotting with perplexity.

"There are incontrovertible links between the gangster and terrorist Dagur Oswaldson and Drago Bludvist," he read. "He supported the man, provided intelligence about all moves against him…and even ordered his Secret Service Agents to assassinate witnesses against Dagur and offer him protection. It's a brutally corrupt relationship that can have only one purpose: to consolidate Bludvist's hold over the people." Mala glanced over at Hiccup and Astrid and reached behind the counter, lifting a Nadder submachine gun.

"There are Quad bikes behind the Spa," she said. "Take them to the Greek Temple at the crest of the hill. Below that, there is a tunnel direct to the Central Lobby-which opens onto the Blue Dining Room…which is where the Cabinet are meeting. We will deter the Secret Service from following you…" Throk popped up with a mobile rocket launcher from behind the towel store.

"Vigorously!" he confirmed with a stern nod.

"I really really wanna join this gym," Hiccup commented.

"We will ensure our staff are at your disposal…especially when you emerge from the Whispering Death Tunnel," Mala said seriously and Astrid gaped.

"Really?"

"Highly probably," Throk confirmed, checking the surveillance cameras. "But the Secret Service are on their way…" He gestured to the screens and Hiccup headed for the door. Mala paused and then smiled at Astrid.

"We have your back, Agent-now go finish your mission!" she said as the blonde finally turned and ran after Hiccup. He was already sitting on a Quad bike and checking the controls.

"Have you ever ridden one of these before?" he asked and she shook her head.

"Prefer two wheels, not four," she admitted as she switched on the engine.

"Well, we all got our little problems," he sighed as he shifted into gear. The sounds of a car closing fast grew louder. "And I suspect another of ours will be the gardener being after our asses…"

"And why's that?' she asked as she shot off after him.

"Because we're going to ruin his perfect lawn!" Hiccup yelled as the roared across the grass…with two ASS sedans in hot pursuit…

oOo

"Sir! Sir! Sir!" Fishlegs panted up to where Spitelout Jorgensen and three other rather miffed BHS agents were drinking coffee and eating Danish pastries. The Director looked up with a roll of his pallid blue eyes.

"What is it, Ingerman?" he asked in a bored voice.

"President Bludvist is in league with Dagur Oswaldson and has been perverting ASS to protect the terrorist in order to drive through his hard line policies on crime and restrict the freedoms of our citizens," Fishlegs managed without taking a breath. Shaking his head, Spitelout took another bite of his apple cinnamon swirl.

"Preposterous!" he decided and sipped his espresso, still chewing. "The President just takes a personal interest in how we have progressed in tackling the greatest threat to security in the Archipelago…"

"Which you wanted to veto," Snotlout piped up. His father scowled.

"Now listen here, boyo…" he began. "I ran the operation past the President as his standing orders required and he vetoed the plan as unworkable and illegal…"

"And is he a lawyer?" Fishlegs asked softly. "Because BHS doesn't have to stick to the letter of the law in dealing with threats to national security! Everything Snotlout reported to you during the mission went to the President…" The Director nodded.

"As he commanded," he confirmed. "He is my President and I obey his commands."

"But everything you told him…went straight to Dagur," Fishlegs told him. "We set a test-that Fury was vulnerable and injured. And amazingly, Dagur's men arrived less than an hour later mob-handed and tried to kill Fury and Astrid." Spitelout opened his mouth…and then snapped it shut again.

"He betrayed my agent?" he asked dangerously. Snotlout nodded.

"He betrayed us all, Dad," he confirmed. There was a pause-and then Spitelout banged his fist on the table.

"Son of a half-troll!" he spat.

"Sir-we need to get to the Cabinet," Fishlegs said urgently. "I believe that you, the Vice President and any one of the other senior ministers can declare the President unfit and impeach him. And you have the power to arrest him as well…" Spitelout drained his cup and stood.

"Right! This traitor won't arrest himself, will he?" he asked. "Come on-let's go!" He turned to the door-as three ASS agents entered and covered them with their guns.

"Oh crap," said Snotlout.

oOo

Racing across the manicured lawn, their wheels ripping up the billiard-table smooth grass, Astrid wondered how come a simple mission just taking their 'prisoner' to speak to the President could go so horribly wrong. Bullets zinged around them and she saw Hiccup glance over his shoulder and snap off a couple of shots, one smashing the windscreen as they dinked and headed through a neat oval bed of roses. The car barrelled after them, smashing a statue of a cherub as they headed for an ornamental copse.

"Head for the Greek temple…" Astrid muttered. "I mean-why would you build a Greek Temple? This is Berk! We're Vikings through and through!" She ducked under a branch as they shot through the other side, the car slewing across the lawn, leaving ugly brown gashes.

"Maybe-that?" Hiccup suggested from just ahead. On the rise ahead, there was a small circular stone building, surrounded by a curtain of stone columns supporting a simple domed green stone roof. "Looks Greek to me…"

"Well, it'll do!" she smirked as they shot up the hill and jumped from the Quad bikes, then approached the building. There was a simple archway into the cool stone space and they found themselves in a circular room with a beautiful mosaic floor. Astrid stared around. "But where's the entrance?" Hiccup scanned around and smiled, his fingers trailing over the images of the Greek Gods.

"I may not have a classical education but I picked up a bit at school," he pointed out. He pointed to a magnificent male with lightning bolts in his fist. "That one is Zeus, King of the Gods…Athena, Goddess of Wisdom…" Astrid peered at a serious looking woman with an owl perched on her shoulder and nodded as Hiccup gestured to a man with a three-headed dog standing at his back. "…and Hades, God of the Underworld…" And he pressed the image. There was a click and the floor split and retracted, revealing a steep set of stairs down into a perfectly round tunnel just over two metres high. Astrid automatically pulled a small, high-powered light from her belt and clicked it on.

"That will do," she said and headed down.

"Good work, Hiccup, Nicely done," he added sarcastically and followed her. There was a grinding noise and the floor slid back, closing them in. "Did I mention I hate enclosed spaces?" She stopped and stared at him.

"What? And you couldn't say, have mentioned it when Mala suggested we come down the tunnel?" she asked him sharply and he gave a self-conscious smile and rubbed the back of his neck.

"Um…never really came up…and it's not like we've sat down and had a chat about likes and dislikes or phobias or…" he said defensively. Astrid shook her head and continued walking down the tunnel. The walls were smooth and it seemed relatively dry…though the damp smell of earth permeated the place and they could hear the vibration of the cars overhead.

"But you're a sniper!" she protested. He trotted to catch up with her and sighed.

"Yeah…the thing about being a sniper is that it involves a lot of waiting around outside…in open spaces…like on the side of a hill…on a roof…up a tree…not in a small dark tunnel!" he protested. "I mean, if you think about it, small dark spaces and long-range sniper shooting are pretty much mutually exclusive…"

"Semantics…" she shot back, though she glanced over at him. He looked pale and tense and she realised, despite his brave front, he really wasn't enjoying the experience. Then she reached out and took his hand. "I'm not really enjoying this myself," she added quietly. "I keep seeing Dagur, shoving me down into the gulley and leaning over the edge. And telling me that no one would ever find me. And then…he collapsed the edge of the gully over me. And I screamed and tried to thrash and make some room…but the weight pressed me down and I couldn't move because my hands were cuffed behind my back. And I just felt completely trapped…helpless…and though I tried to struggle, it all started to fade…"

His hand squeezed hers warmly.

"I know how you feel," he murmured as they walked along, eyes locked on the little puddle of light ahead of them. "I woke in the ground, lying over the bodies of Cami and Sam. My back hurt and I felt like shit and frankly, I thought I was dying…and the only thing that made me fight on was the hope I could get them a decent burial and avenge them." She fell silent for a moment.

"The graves are beautiful," she said quietly. "I think Bertha did a good job." He cast her a glance.

"You know Bertha?" he asked warily. She nodded.

"She helped my sister," she said. "Your wife helped my sister. She went through the refuge. When we took the women we rescued from Dagur there, I saw a photo of Bertha's daughter-and I recognised you. It gave me my clue." She paused. "She knows you're alive, doesn't she?" He nodded.

"She blames me," he said tonelessly. "She thinks I didn't protect them. And she's right. It was all my fault. I…"

"STOP THAT!" she snapped. "It wasn't true then and it isn't true now. You were a soldier and you followed the orders given to you. You had exceptional aim. You were decorated and honoured. Gods, you were a Lieutenant at twenty one! And you were in the Heimdallr Division…whatever that is…though it's clearly something pretty awesome. You did everything you were asked to do-and you had every right to expect the protection of your comrades against Dagur-not being betrayed as part of a bargain. It was not your fault! Dagur, Drago, Alvin and whoever else was involved own that blame…not you!" She was facing him now, the lights casting strange shadows on her face. He gently lifted a hand to stroke her cheek and he sighed.

"I'll get you killed," he sighed. She smiled.

"I've saved you before-and you've saved me, Hiccup," she reminded him. "We're Hiccup and Astrid and I think we make a kick-ass team. And whether we are just friends or anything more…there should always be a Hiccup and Astrid. Always."

"You're stubborn," he admitted.

"So are you-though obsessive is more like it…" she added. "Trust me, Hiccup. We'll get him." She leaned forward and kissed him and he stiffened, before he kissed her back.

"Well, when you put it like this…can we _please_ get out of this tunnel?" he asked plaintively. She grinned.

"As you wish, Mr Night Fury," she said and turned back to the dark way ahead.

oOo

The twins were gently spreading chaos by innocently directing ASS agents the wrong way, accidentally trapping them in elevators and in one case, stunning then dropping two of them down the laundry chute. All the while, they were searching the hotel for their friends…until they ran into Special Agent Eretson. The agent stared at them and then his face filled with realisation.

"My men have been muttering about two useless hotel workers who have been sending them in circles…it's you two!" The twins shared a look and Ruff shoved the ordnance she was hauling along into her brother's arms.

"Go help H!" she said urgently and threw herself onto Eret, clamping her mouth onto his face like a leech and winding her lanky limbs around his buff shape. Tuff stared in utter horror-then scurried away, slamming the heavy door and snapping the handle as he went. Eret gave a desperate groan and fought for air before he finally managed to prise Ruffnut off him, ejecting her onto the floor in a heap.

"Oh my Gods," he groaned, frantically wiping his mouth. "Bleurgh!"

"Hey! Me likey!" she grinned madly as the other ASS officers covered her warily with their guns in case she tried to jump them. Not that she was armed but she was eyeing them all up like pastries in a window and none of them wanted to be her next course. Agent Eretson waved at the door.

"Go after him, you idiots!" he snapped, glaring at Ruff as his men ran to the door-and found themselves unable to open the lock. Frantically, they began to throw themselves against it. But it was eight feet high, three inches thick and solid oak: it wasn't budging.

"Sorry sir-we appear to be locked in!" the first man said, his eyes apologetic. He was a short man with a big nose. Eretson glared at the grinning Ruff.

"Then climb out of the window!" he snapped and his men ran across the room to start wrestling with the sash windows, which had been painted closed. There were the horrible sounds of creaking and screeching as they tried to prise them open. Ruff got up and winked at him.

"So while they're busy, Mr Hunk…how about you tell me about yourself?" she said.

oOo

Snotlout was polishing off the Danish pastries as he and the other agents were held prisoner by the ASS agents. A thin-faced man had come in, inspected his prisoners and relieved them of weapons…though he hadn't bothered to remove their coms. As far as he was concerned, they were all jammed. Then the door had closed and they were all left there, though there were two men outside guarding the door, the only way in and out of the interior room.

In an instant, Spitelout and the others were up, trying to find a way out but Snotlout had calmly hoped himself to a raspberry custard kite and then refilled his coffee. After a moment, his father had turned to him in exasperation.

"Aren't you joining us, boyo?" he asked sarcastically. Snotlout finished his pastry.

"Not much point," he said. "We need to find out what's happening outside." And he looked over at Fishlegs.

"And how are you supposed to do that?" Spitelout asked pointedly. "Chicken feet? Fish entrails?" The husky agent blushed, then touched his hand to his ear.

"Toothless? What's the sitrep?" he asked warily.

"Well, that's going to work…or hadn't you realised they're jamming…" Spitelout began before the distinct voice of Toothless replied.

" _H and Astrid are coming in from outside, Ruff has been captured by Agent Eretson, Tuff is on the loose and I believe he has just set fire to the Orangery. The President remains in the Ballroom and has a designed deputy, Agent Krogan..who, interestingly, doesn't seem to actually be qualified to be an agent and has a rap sheet from Trapper Bay as long as my arm. Half of the agents are just doing grunt duties but Krogan and his cabal are the ones who are shooting at people._ "

"Ah," Fishlegs said as the Director stared at him in shock, tapping his earpiece in irritation. "Any chance of a hand getting out of here?" There was a pause and Toothless sighed.

" _Did anyone actually look at the plans of the place that I obtained for you before the meeting?_ " he asked in a slightly exasperated voice.

"Plans? What plans?" Snotlout asked irritably, scouting the room for any more food. Fishlegs gulped.

"Sorry-I was kind of binge-watching 'Viking Raiders' on Netflix and I meant to read them last night and then I fell asleep and kind of forgot and…" he rambled and Spitelout stared at him.

"How did you get the plans to this place?" he demanded. "Details about Caldera Cay are classified beyond anyone except Odin-level clearance…"

" _Or covert intel and IT experts who can cut through the frankly pathetic systems you have,_ " Toothless growled. " _Okay. Because no one has bothered to do their homework, I will suggest you maybe go through the concealed passage to the kitchens?"_

"OOOH! There's a secret passage?" Fishlegs squeaked as both Snotlout and Spitelout slapped their hands over his mouth.

"Shh!" the stocky agent hissed.

" _Couldn't have said it better myself,"_ Toothless commented and sighed. " _The wood panels behind the table with the pastries on. I've hacked the CCTV, Fish. I'd move. Now?_ " Snotlout looked to the camera and flipped him the finger then moved the table and stared at the wood-panelled wall. With admirable focus, he ran his hands down the side and found the catch: the door swung open. "Now get out of there and to the Cabinet. I'll talk you through the house. But I would move because they're coming back and it's Krogan. He may decide you're surplus to requirements…" Spitelout jammed a heavy chair under the door handle as the other agents-Hoark, Ack and Sven-moved the table against an adjacent wall to look natural then sprinted down the passage after his men, dragging the door closed. He grinned.

"Okay…so where do we go now?" he asked.

oOo

Vice President Viggo Grimborn had heard the shots, he had heard the sounds of running feet and he had observed what appeared to be a car chase between the President's Secret Service men and two figures of Quad bikes who had vanished over the rise into the manicured grounds. And he knew that Bludvist was making his move-almost certainly because he feared that the hitman who had been brought to speak to him knew something of his involvement in the Dagur Business.

Grimborn was a cold man, a man who had a mind of laser precision and complete ruthlessness-but he couldn't abide sloppiness or stupidity...and in his opinion, Bludvist was showing both. He was allowing personal feelings to interfere with the conduct of politics and with his performance as a leader. And while Grimborn would freely admit that Bludvist was a hard line right winger with only limited respect for democracy and even less for fundamental rights and freedoms, he respected the man for his drive and determination. That was why he had accepted the invitation to be the man's Vice President and had served him with loyalty and efficiency.

But the death of Dagur had affected Drago...probably because Dagur was a convenient excuse for Bludvist's more draconian policies. Without a live terrorist, the President would find it much harder to drive through his more extreme policies that would cement his position as despotic ruler of the Archipelago...and, if his sudden change in affect was any clue, that may not be a bad thing. Grimborn had his own plans and those didn't involve remaining the sidekick to a tyrant.

But even he was shocked when a panel in the wall opened and Director Jorgensen, his dim witted son, the husky blond nervous-looking agent and three older men all erupted into the room, disturbing the Cabinet Meeting. The Director was grinning, his big face lit with a slightly manic smile.

"Vice President," he said. "I think we have a problem with President Bludvist."

"So I had surmised," Grimborn said, his smooth voice betraying a hint of his irritation. "His men are prowling around, shooting at people and I note they are guarding our door.. .to keep us safe or keep us out of the way, I wonder?"

"I suspect the latter, sir," the husky blond agent said, casting a worried look at the door. "BHS is here to protect you and the Cabinet, sir...in case you need to take action against the President."

"Action?" the Foreign Secretary asked. Grimborn cast a wry look at the man: Ryker Grimborn was his older brother, a much more direct and brutal man who would have been ideal for the Security brief had the Cabinet and Assembly not insisted that Atali Winger be appointed. The red-haired woman was cool, determined and dispassionate-a perfect choice for the role and probably a perfect foil for Bludvist.

"Provision 47-the removal of a President unfit for duty or who is deemed to be acted dangerously against the security of the Archipelago," Atali interjected, her smooth voice mildly scathing. "I believe that all the requisite personnel are here: Vice President, Senior Ministers and a senior civil servant."

"And Drago Bludvist knows that as well," Viggo Grimborn reminded them, his eyes calculating. "Ryker-can you use the passage to get into the main body of the house and find out what is happening?" His brother nodded curtly: he always carried a weapon and was unafraid to use it.

"It would be my pleasure," he growled and vanished into he secret passage, the panel slamming closed behind him. Viggo sat back and steepled his fingers.

"Now, I guess I should ask on what grounds you think we can remove the President," he asked.

The television clicked on and the image of President Bludvist appeared, his eyes glittering with anger and fist clenched. Beside him was the shape of Agent Eretson and in his grip, a struggling Ruffnut. And beside him, a slender raven-haired shape was smirking at the camera.

 _"I wish to introduce my new Special Adviser,"_ he said, his rough voice echoing through the room. Heather nodded and folded her arms, her green eyes merciless.

 _"Fury,_ " she said clearly. _"I'm going to make this easy and unambiguous for you. Hand yourself over to us or I will order Agent Eretson here to execute your friend."_


	22. Contact Fulfilled

**Twenty-Two: Contract Fulfilled.**

Hiccup Haddock, the man known as the hitman Night Fury, went rigid as he heard Heather's words echo throughout the cellar where they had just emerged from the Whispering Death tunnel from the Greek Temple.

_Hand yourself over to us or I will order Agent Eretson here to execute your friend._

He looked over at Astrid and she was frowning, her eyes flicking over his worried face.

"Who is it, T?" he asked quietly, for they couldn't see the screen.

" _Ruff_ ," came the reply, the word bitter and concerned.

"Where are they?" Hiccup asked, his hand automatically finding his gun.

" _Ballroom-but it's suicide. The place is ringed with ASS and there are four in there not counting Agent Eretson..."_ Toothless's tone was warning.

"Bludvist is in there as well," Hiccup growled.

" _And getting yourself stupidly killed won't release Ruff_ ," Toothless counselled him urgently. " _You need a plan-and running into a hail of bullets isn't it!_ "

"No-because you need to remember it's not just you this time," Astrid said firmly. "You have some allies-and a back-up plan. What you need to do now is regroup and come up with a way of finishing this without getting killed."

"I don't matter," he said automatically-and then he flinched as she slapped him.

"Yes you do," she said sharply. "Hiccup and Astrid, remember? Partners?" He sagged, his eyes filling with shame.

"Ruff and Tuff found me, along with Taron," he told her quietly. "They picked me up from where I had collapsed over my own grave and got me medical help. They made sure my wife and son were treated with respect. I owe her my life."

"But running in there won't help," she reminded him softly. "All that will do will allow the President's men to gun you down before you even get close."

"That's not what Heather would be planning," Hiccup said grimly. "She'll know I killed her brother..."

"Then we use that against her," Astrid encouraged him warmly. "Look-she's clever, cold and ruthless...but she's not infallible. She believed you and you observed her. She hit on you, didn't she?" He nodded with a shamed blush. "Okay-so needy, desperate and angry. That means she's vulnerable. We get to the VP and see what he has to say."

"And then we need to persuade Heather than not killing Ruff would be a good move..." Hiccup murmured.

" _NF-you better have a plan because that's my sister,_ " Tuff murmured over the com. " _And if you don't do something, I will..._ " The hitman scrambled to the door and peered out, then began running along the hallway.

"Don't do anything stupid, Tuff," he warned the male twin. "It doesn't help anyone if you get killed..." He paused. "Taron-where's the main junction box?"

" _Up ahead, about thirty metres,_ " the handler said. " _But what are you planning?_ "

Hiccup raced to the box and pulled the grey door open, staring at the trip switches for a moment and then pulling the main switch down. Immediately all the lights went out and the small dim emergency lights flickered into life along the hallway.

"And now we make our move," he said, pausing at the junction and shooting the ASS agent who was waiting just round the corner. Astrid appeared at his shoulder, shaking her head.

" _Whatever you're planning, any minute now would be good,_ " Ruff murmured, sounding strained. " _I think this psycho bitch is really seriously psycho..._ "

" _I'm coming, Butt-Elf!_ " Tuffnut replied grimly but Hiccup froze.

"Theodore Thorston-don't even think of running in there and getting yourself killed!" he snapped. "I need you in the kitchen-now!"

" _I know you've got a great metabolism...well, you are a bit of a fishbone...but is now really the time for a snack?_ " Tuffnut retorted. Astrid frowned and then she gasped.

"Tuff-I will shoot you myself if you don't do what he says," she told him shortly. "We won't let anything happen to Ruff..." There was a reluctant pause and then Tuff slowly replied.

" _I'm almost there,_ " he said shortly as they headed for the kitchens.

"They're carrying explosives, aren't they?" she asked him and he nodded.

"They always carry explosives-but they've got weapons as well..." he murmured as they approached the kitchens again. Crashing through the doors, the chefs looked up again, muttering and still preparing the meal by the light of the ovens. "Smells great, guys," Hiccup said as they stopped. "Have you got any vinegar, lemon juice, potassium salt, Scauldron oil and Changewing acid?"

"Sorry-what were the last two?" the nearest man said, looking surprised.

"Scauldron oil is used in curing shark for Loki'd Shark and Changewing acid is used to etch glass and in opening Abalone and Reaper Clams for Vanaheim Salad," Hiccup told them without hesitation. "A Michelin-starred kitchen such as this will have these ingredients in your store room…" The sous-chefs shared a worried look, fully aware the man had a pistol in his hand and then led him to the cupboard where the rare and very expensive ingredients were kept. Frowning, Hiccup collected the ingredients and then handed them over to Tuffnut, who had just arrived, guns hanging from various points on his body.

"Um…what are you planning, sir?" the bravest cook asked. He seemed to be trying to assemble a tart tatin despite the lack of light and excess of gunmen passing through the pastry section. Tuffnut grinned.

"An explosive that will surprise all the bad guys," he said with a manic grin. "Can I have a saucepan?"

Three chefs ran forward with various pans as Astrid sighed.

"I think you need to temporarily evacuate," she suggested. "I know your Boss is in the Spa and that would be a good place to head." There was fervent nodding and the kitchen staff swarmed to the back door as Tuff switched on the cooker and cracked his knuckles.

"OK, one batch of Thorstonblast coming up," he grinned. They watched him in surprise as he mixed the various ingredients-along with the contents of a couple of shotgun cartridges and produced a slimy blackish brown paste that looked like really thick coffee. Astrid leaned close to smell it-but Hiccup pulled her back.

"I wouldn't," he advised her."It's highly unstable...just throwing it around makes it explode...but it does look and smell fairly like coffee..." As he spoke, he was casting around for a mug and grinned as he found one, carefully holding it as Tuffnut decanted the goop into the mug. And then he smiled. "Now this feels more like a plan..." he said.

"And what does it involve?" she asked him. The hitman grinned.

"Tuff and I go and rescue his sister while you head to the Vice President and persuade him to declare the President unfit," he said calmly. Her eyes widened and she opened her mouth to protest but he gave a small smile."Please-I know Fish and Snotface are there but I would rather you were in charge. Please?" Reluctantly, she nodded.

"You better not get yourself killed, Hiccup-not after all the effort I put into finding out your middle name!" she warned him and he gave a broad grin.

"Definitely not-Astrid _Freya!_ " he teased her and carefully headed for the door. Tuff looked up from the sink where he had carefully filled the pan with detergent and milk and frowned.

"What is his middle name?" he asked.

"Horrendous," she told him and he shrugged.

"Only asking," he said and ambled off after the hitman.

Hearing the male twin behind him, Hiccup accelerated towards the Ballroom, careful to keep the Thorstonblast explosive very steady. The only ASS man they encountered was shot without hesitation by the hitman and he paused as they reached the doors up ahead.

"Tuff-I need you to go to the junction box and put the lights back on when I go in there," Hiccup said. "Cut them again when I yell. You'll know when..."

"But Ruff..."

"I promise I won't let anyone harm her," he said calmly. "Trust me..." There was an awkward pause and then Tuff nodded.

"Only because it's you...and because you have the TB in your hands," he said reluctantly and then turned and ran off in the direction of the junction box. Hiccup sighed and walked towards the doors, seeing the ASS guards cover him with their weapons. He calmly raised his gun and then tossed it aside, though he hung onto his cup of 'coffee'.

"Well, here I am," he said cheerfully. "You got me."

oOo

Astrid arrived at the door and paused, then ducked behind the large ornamental plant before taking a breath. She was armed with her gun and a mini stunner that she had been given by Fishlegs before they had left HQ. The Secret Service agents were alert and armed…but they imagined they had the upper hand. Pausing, she gently crouched down and pulled out the magazine and teased a bullet free-then slid the magazine back into the pistol, before she took took the stunner in her hand. She swiftly tossed the bullet high and fast through the air and heard it hit the wall to the left of the ASS agents. Both instinctively turned-and in that moment, she stunned the agents guarding it without hesitating. As they slammed to the floor, she popped up, quickly setting to haul them away safely. She knew there was little to gain in walking around: at present, being safe and sequestered and apparently out the way was a positive advantage but she only opened the door and slid in once the men were securely tied up.

Eyes landed on her and she carefully closed the door, scanning the room. The Vice President glanced up and saw her piercing glare.

"Ah, Agent Hofferson," he said smoothly. "I trust your audience with President Bludvist went well?"

"As well as expected," she said. "Sir-President Bludvist is in league with the terrorist Dagur and he helped him commit his atrocities to advance his personal repressive agenda." Viggo Grimborn steepled his fingers and looked thoughtful.

"We all saw the enlightening footage, my dear," he commented.

"Sir-his men are trying to kill Hiccup Haddock and I and they have you imprisoned," she pointed out.

"Sir-I have to agree with Agent Haddock," Director Jorgensen said, his blue eyes narrowed. "The man is corrupt and has caused the deaths of hundreds of his citizens just to permit him to bring in legislation to tighten his grip on power. He is unfit to rule." Cold dark brown eyes flicked up as Viggo looked round the room. The other cabinet ministers were all looking appalled and Atali Winger took her to feet.

"I concur," she said determinedly. "We have to invoke Article 47 and remove him from power pending legal proceedings. I will issue a warrant for his arrest through the Justice Department to investigate his ties, communications and dealings with Dagur Oswaldson and his part in the terrorist attacks that have happened over the last two years. I believe Director Jorgensen will support the motion. But we require the support of the Vice President."

Grimborn looked around the room, reading the mood in everyone's eyes and faces and then nodded.

"I believe you are correct," he conceded. "As long as this is conducted all according to the legal framework, I concur. There must be an unbiased investigation and, if necessary, a properly conducted trial. Is that understood?" Atali nodded while Director Jorgensen scowled.

"We all understand the process," he said. "Can we get a move on." Grimborn looked up.

"It is done-we have all consented and expressed our concerns-so, as of 11.42am today, Drago Bludvist is removed from the Presidency pending investigation into his crimes under Provision 47 of the United Archipelago Constitution." He glanced over at the Cabinet Secretary, who had already made the necessary official notes and was preparing the documents. "Now-Director Jorgensen, I would be grateful if you and your agents could stop the Secret Service from killing us all." The Director gave a broad grin.

"It would be my pleasure," he growled as the lights snapped back on and the screen filled with Drago Bludvist's face.

"Ah…I guess that you are all huddled together, plotting against me," he growled, his expression unpleasant. "But as you can see, I hold all the cards." He gestured to Ruffnut-still being held by Agent Eretson-with Hiccup standing by, still casually holding his mug of 'coffee' and covered by Krogan while the President stood with the suited and lithe shape of Heather and the tall, buff shape of Ryker Grimborn at his side. Viggo Grimborn stared.

"Ryker," he mouthed.

"I suspect you have attempted to enact Article 47-to impeach me and remove me from office…but I have already outmanoeuvred you," he sneered. "Viggo Grimborn, Atali Winger and Director Spitelout Jorgensen are all declared traitors for plotting against me and are removed from office. So now you cannot remove _me_ from office…and my new Security Minister Oswaldson and new Vice President Grimborn will ensure you are all given a fair trial..and then a fair execution!"

"Little brother-you really shouldn't have listened to that woman and even considered acting against Bludvist-you know he will always win!" the big man sneered. "But there is no problem. If you are disloyal to him….you can expect disloyalty in return. I knew I couldn't rely on you when you didn't fight that hard to get me the Security Minister's post. Now I have a better one!"

"Ryker, you idiot," Viggo muttered. "Too much. I mean...family above all..."

"So you see-I hold all the cards," Bludvist sneered and gestured to his men. "So I don't think we need all these hostages…"

Astrid turned and stared at Snotlout and Fishlegs.

"Get the politicians down to the cellars. Behind the boiler, there is a hatch to a passage to the Greek Temple in the grounds. You should be safe there for a while. If you can, get to the Spa. Help is there."

"What will you be doing?" Fishlegs asked her. He wasn't much of a field agent and was grateful for a less exciting assignment. She frowned.

"Going to help Hiccup," she said but then she froze as she heard him speak over the screen and they all turned to watch.

"Let her go," he said, gesturing to Ruff. "You got me. Let her go free."

"Why?" Krogan asked cruelly. "You seem fond of this woman. Maybe she could be a lever?" He lifted the coffee mug and looked the man in the eye.

"Let. Her. Go!" he snapped then inclined his head to the mug. "Raquel knows what this is, don't you?" Eyes wide and pressed back against Agent Eretson, Ruff nodded.

"Thorstonblast," she said in an awed voice.

"What?" Krogan sneered impatiently.

"An incredibly powerful, volatile and unpredictable explosive that we whipped up in your kitchen," Hiccup said, balancing the mug on the tips of his fingers. "Of course, I don't have a detonator…but if I spill it, throw it down or just drop it, it will detonate."

"You won't do it," Bludvist sneered. "You'd be injured or killed yourself."

There was a pause and Heather looked concerned. She knew how determined the man had been in pursuing her brother. Silently, she edged back a few steps. Ryker did the same on Drago's other side.

"And you think that matters?" Hiccup asked him bluntly. "You and Dagur took everything from me. I've killed him for his crimes-you think I care if I live or die? Now let her go…" He glanced at Agent Eretson. "I thought your job was to protect the President. I will kill him and us all unless you release her!" The Agent nodded and made to let her go as Krogan levelled his gun at the Agent.

"Remain where you are!" he growled. "You obey the President and him alone!" Then he levelled the gun at Hiccup. "And you…I don't believe you…"

"I am a man of my word," Hiccup said evenly.

"Oh no…" Ruff murmured and began to struggle. "You…let me go! He's not kidding!" Emerald eyes expressed his regret.

"Sorry, Ruff," he murmured and spun, throwing the mug to slam into the floor just at the President's feet.

The explosion blew everyone off their feet, especially Hiccup, Ruff and Agent Eretson who were all leaping sideways. The female twin landed in a heap with the Agent landing across her. Hiccup flew through the air, his side slamming into the table before he collapsed into the floor. The roar reverberated through the room and with a crack, half the ceiling collapsed on them.

And then the lights went out.

oOo

The building shook just as the whole place went dark once more and Astrid staggered at the sudden jolt.

"Hiccup," she breathed before snapping her head round to glare at Snotlout and Fishlegs. "I gave you an order-get them to safety!" she growled. There was a pause and the husky agent nodded, followed immediately by Snotlout, who had calculated that appearing to be a good agent in front of his father would help dispel some of the accusations of being an utter muttonhead quite effectively. Spitelout Jorgensen looked at her with an amused look.

"And do you have an order for me, Agent?" he asked softly. She paused.

"Technically, I can't give you any orders, sir, because you are my superior officer-though I would hope getting the Acting-President and Cabinet to safety would be your highest priority while I go and see if I can rescue the man who has helped us uncover this whole mess." There was a pause and cold blue eyes crinkled with a smile.

"You know, I think I made a mistake not listening to you when you proposed your plan to end Dagur," he admitted. "And a good leader learns from his mistakes-especially when the man he believed in turns out to be a traitor and a despot. Hoark, Ack, Sven-get the politicos to safety with Agent Ingerman and me. Snotlout-go with her, boyo. And try not to mess it up!"

"Yessir!" his son replied with a grin and waggled his eyebrows at Astrid. "Just you and me, babe?" he suggested. She groaned.

"Thor help me. Do exactly as you're told!" she snapped and headed out through the door.

The corridor was full of dust and there was an ominous crack in the ceiling, damaging the beautiful stucco work. The ASS men were still tied up where they had been left and the two BHS agents raced past, heading for the centre of the building. As they rounded a corner, there was a creak and dust filtered down from the roof.

"What's happening?" Snotlout asked, his gun levelled up ahead. Astrid pulled him back into an alcove behind a fake suit of armour.

"The bomb must have damaged the Ballroom…and that has made the whole building unstable," she realised, peering round the corner to see three ASS men trying to break through the doors, which seemed to be stuck. "There was a side entrance from the kitchens-that may still be open. Come on!"

"Yeah-I was going to ask when we were getting lunch…" Snotlout added as they turned and sprinted off back the way they came.

oOo

Ruffnut awoke to the admittedly not-unpleasant sight of Agent Eretson laying over her-though he appeared to be partially pinning her with his dead weight. Exasperated, she slapped him hard-her brother always told her she slapped like a man-and he groaned, his delicious caramel-brown eyes fluttering open.

"Ow! That was uncalled for…" he mumbled, frowning as he tried to mentally check for injuries. "I threw myself over you to protect you."

"Oh. That was nice of you," she said briskly, feeling curiously uncomfortable. She really wasn't used to anyone being particularly nice to her-even her brother, though she knew he loved her in his own extremely crazy way-and it felt weird. "Now can you get off me? I need to find Fury…" The Agent looked contrite and levered himself up to his knees, scrambling off her.

"Sorry," he apologised. "I didn't realise that you and he…I mean, he was with that other blonde…" Ruff sighed.

"We're not," she snapped. "He's a friend. And I really hope he and that other blonde are…sort of…because he really needs it. But he came here to save my life with that ridiculous plan that only he would even try and think he could pull off…"

"I wouldn't have shot you!" Agent Eretson protested. "I'm not a murderer. But it seems Bludvist is…and I work for AIS, not ASS. We've been suspicious about how Dagur the Deranged was getting his intelligence and support for a long time…and the presence of Heather, Dagur's sister seems to at least partially answer that…"

"Wow-you really should talk to your friends in other agencies," Ruff said, swiping the dust out of her eyes and peering around in the dusty gloom. "BHS…well, _Fury_ … finished Dagur off."

"I was there," the agent told her and then sighed. "My name is Eret Eretson III."

"Ruffnut Thorston," she replied automatically. "Boy, your family doesn't believe in changing a winning formula, does it?"

"While yours seems to be a bit coy about names…or did I hear him call you Raquel?" Eret grinned back. She shook her head.

"Our Mom really liked impressive names-my twin brother is called Theodore, if you would believe it!-but we're a pair of nuts so we've always been known as Ruffnut and Tuffnut…"

"Hey, sis-stop flirting with the nasty Agent!" a voice hissed from the gloom and a very grubby and dusty Tuff crawled up. Ruff paused for an instant and then hugged him-before punching him.

"I'm very glad to see you but he's on our side…and kind of cute as well," she hissed back.

"We need to get you out of here," Tuff hissed back urgently. "The Thorstonblast was too strong. This whole building is structurally unsound! Half the roof has fallen in already and the best option are the windows…"

"I agree," Eret added. "Eret Eretson III, AIS. This place is coming down any time." Tuff glared at him suspiciously and then nodded.

"No!" Ruff growled. "Fury is still here. He gave himself up to save me-and we have to get him out." There was a pause and then the two men nodded as they peered into the gloom, the dust swirling around the table, collapsed ceiling and debris. Eret pulled out a small flashlight and skimmed it over the vicinity, seeing two of Bludvist's men lying sprawled and clearly badly injured, half-buried under chunks of plaster.

"Where is he?" Tuff muttered.

"He was moving towards us when the explosion happened…so he should be this way," Ruff murmured, crawling through the debris, her eyes searching the rubble. Tuff paused, then grabbed a chunk of plaster and lobbed it through a window. A stream of grey light filtered into the room as the tinkling smash died away-but there was an ominous rumble and more dust filtered down from the unseen roof.

"Don't do that!" Eret hissed. "This place is really really unstable…" There was another groan…but they realised it was from close by, just beside the large table. Ruff and Tuff scrambled forward and started tossing pieces of debris aside-to reveal the dusty and semi-conscious shape of Hiccup. His eyes fluttered wearily open.

"Not dead yet?" he murmured as Ruff leaned over him, leering. "Agh!"

"Nope," she grinned. "Try harder next time." He rested a hand against his aching head, feeling blood smeared on his temple and hand.

"Not planning on a next time," he mumbled as he tried to get up…and then hissed in pain, almost cringing. His side lit up with the hot pain of broken bones. "Thor…my ribs…" he breathed and pressed a hand desperately against his side to try to support the injury. Breathing was really painful as he hauled himself to a sitting position and he chewed his lip.

"Fury?" Tuff asked. "You okay, man?"

"Broken ribs," he grunted. "Is he dead?" There were the sounds of movement from the gloom and then two figures loomed behind them. Eret punched at one and there was a whine, while Tuff lunged at the other. There was the sound of a very firm punch and the male twin whimpered.

"Oh, I am hurt, I am very much hurt!" he protested.

"Shut up, I didn't hit you that hard!" Astrid snapped.

"He hit me!" Snotlout whined.

"Shut up, Snot!" the blonde agent snapped. "Hiccup?" There was a sigh.

"Still kicking, Astrid," he assured her, his lips lifting in the slightest smile-which both twins noticed. There were sounds of movement as well from the other side of the room.

"Check they are dead! I want them dead!" Bludvist's voice echoed through the dusty space and they all instinctively cringed down under the table. Astrid held her gun out to Hiccup and he gratefully accepted the weapon.

"You're a better shot than I am," she murmured as the twins hunkered down as small as they could and Eret trained his gun on the sounds of movement.

"Keep quiet," Hiccup whispered. "Let them come to us. Astrid-can you cover the left? Agent Eretson-take the right. I'll wait for the shot…" Tuff tapped him on the shoulder and handed over the long wrapped parcel…and even though it hurt to stretch out and grab it, he felt a sense of relief when his hands closed on the Valkyrie. Not the most agile of weapons…but it came fully loaded with night sights. So he wrestled the weapon out as quietly as he could and trained it in the direction he had seen the President. The swirling dust fouled his vision but in Night Vision, he could see the shape clearly. And it was oh so easy to train the crosshairs on the man's head and curl his finger round the trigger. One gentle squeeze and he would have paid back everyone who was responsible for his family's deaths…

…but there were many others who deserved to know the truth, people whose lives had been ripped apart simply because Dagur wanted everyone to pay for his father's death. A death Hiccup had effected on orders from the President. And the same man had helped Dagur, protected him…and used him to tighten his own grip on power. And while Hiccup would gain the personal satisfaction of gaining his revenge, the truth needed to be known.

Behind him, the twins were gently squabbling and as he heard them, he knew others could as well. So he swung the Valkyrie round and saw Krogan and two of his men closing amid the gloom. He snapped off two shots and dropped the men, but Krogan threw himself down, crawling towards them. Eret snapped a volley of shots on the direction as a shape rose up behind them. Heather was armed but Astrid threw herself on the lawyer and bore her to the ground, cracking her fist into the other woman's face.

Heather yelled and punched Astrid back but the blonde was seeing red, recalling the state she had found Hiccup in when she rescued him from Dagur's Townhouse-and who had overseen the torture. Heather elbowed her neck and she rolled back, choking-just long enough to allow the lawyer to her feet…but Astrid swept her legs away and threw herself onto the raven-haired women once more, a punch spilling blood over Heather's face.

The twins were watching Hiccup, seeing him frozen and fighting an internal battle. They could hear steps closing and both knew it would bode poorly for their friend…so, as one, they flung themselves at the approaching Krogan. The man gave a shout of anger and his gun discharged. Tuff grunted in pain and fell back and Ruff yelled in despair.

"TUFF!"

Time slowed for Hiccup, every motion clear and focussed to almost painful sharpness. The man, Krogan, with the white scar over his right eye, his dark skin dulled in the dusty environment but cruel eyes glittering as he swung the gun up. Ruff on her knees by Tuff, who had red smeared over his stomach. Snotlout and Eret who looked up from where there were trading shots with the remaining ASS men who had finally broken through the main door. Dust filtered down and the creaking of surrendering structural integrity grew far louder. And Astrid, her fist landing on Heather's nose and exploding blood over the corrupt lawyer's clear skin.

The Valkyrie was too slow, too unwieldy-but he had Astrid's gun and his arm swung up, shooting before his aim was complete to bury a round in Krogan's body ahead of the kill shot. The impact threw the man backwards, spoiling his aim as Hiccup's hand swung inexorably up and the second shot was straight to the face. Krogan went down without a sound, his body slamming across the debris.

The dust swirled and the remaining men were outlined, allowing Eret and Snotlout to take them out. But Hiccup was raising the Valkyrie once more, facing his mind past the agony of his broken ribs and the raging desire to kill Drago Bludvist for all the deaths he had caused. Death was too good for him: he deserved to lose everything first. A thud signalled Astrid finally punching Heather out, her blonde hair wispily escaping from her braid and floating to frame her bruised face. Breathing hard, she looked up at him and nodded.

The Valkyrie pointed at Drago's chest.

"Drago Bludvist, former President of the United Archipelago Government, you are hereby under arrest for terrorism and treason," Hiccup said. "Please resist because I really want an excuse to shoot you."

"You have no right to arrest me!" Drago sneered.

"But I do!" Eret announced, lifting his real ID. "Eretson-Archipelago Intelligence Service."

"Hofferson, Berk Homeland Security," Astrid added. "You are now in our custody." She nodded and she and Eret took station on each side of the disgraced President and grabbed him.

"Unhand me! You're going to regret this!" Bludvist yelled.

"Not as much as you are," Hiccup said, lowering the Valkyrie and handing it to Ruff…then lifting Tuff in his arms, ignoring the pain. "You shouldn't have sent me to kill Oswald."

"I didn't!" Bludvist snarled as he was frog-marched from the room. Snotlout covered the room-but there was no sign of anyone else moving so he grabbed Heather and slung her over his shoulder as Hiccup with Tuff and Ruff with the gun sped to the door. The ceiling creaked as the stocky agent and the prisoner scurried out as well. With a roar, the rest of the ceiling caved in…and the corridor started to crack.

"RUN!" Astrid yelled as they all sprinted for the main entrance, making their way through just as the main atrium collapsed as well in welter of stucco, plaster and dust. The first sirens were sounding and Hiccup checked the male twin: Tuff was alive but losing blood from a bullet to the middle and needed urgent medical help.

"Don't you leave me!" Ruff begged. "I refuse to spend my life doing anything on my own!" His eyelids fluttered and he gave a small smile.

"Don' worry, Butt-Elf…" he mumbled. "You're never getting rid of me!"

And then there was a flurry of blacked out AIS cars along with regular police and ambulances all arriving in the manicured entrance before the collapsing hotel. Men in black suits surrounded Drago Bludvist as Mala and Throk took charge and the Acting President and rest of his Cabinet emerged from the gardens, slightly muddy and the worse for wear. Astrid ensured Heather was arrested and handed over as well and Eret promised to go with the prisoners to ensure none of Krogan's men tried to liberate the traitors. Ignoring all of this, Hiccup made sure Tuff-and Ruff-were loaded into the first ambulance and safely away before he paused and allowed the pain to really kick in. Strong hands caught him as he swayed and he looked into the familiar green eyes of Toothless, who had emerged from the Catering Van he had been using as his base for monitoring everything that was happening.

"You okay?' he asked the hitman worriedly and Hiccup smiled.

"A couple of cracked ribs," he said, though his pallor said otherwise. "But we got them."

"All the news feeds have shown Bludvist's confession," he confirmed with a grin, his green eyes warm with triumph. "He's finished."

"And so am I," Hiccup said, his eyes searching for Astrid. She looked at him and smiled.

" _Now_ the Contract is fulfilled," she said.

**A/N2: Not quite the end...**


	23. The Fate of Lieutenant Hiccup H Haddock

**Twenty Three: The Fate of Lieutenant Hiccup H Haddock**

The funeral of Admiral Stoick V Haddock was a splendid affair with the great and the good of the Archipelago in attendance. Acting President Viggo Grimborn, Acting Vice-President and Security Minister Atali Winger and the whole host of Cabinet Members were lined up behind the family and close friends. Director Jorgensen, Astrid, Snotlout, Fishlegs, the twins-with Tuff pale from his surgery but raving about his awesome scar-and Toothless all in their best, along with Gobber in his one suit, with his military medals pinned to his broad chest and a disparate group of men from the Bar. And standing at the front, immaculate in his dark green Berk Rangers Uniform was Hiccup. His tidied auburn hair was longer than regulation, brushing his collar but he was clean shaven and pristine, his buttons gleaming in the weak sunshine and medals resplendent on his chest. And he stood to attention as an honour guard of Naval Officers lowered his father's flag-draped coffin into place over the extra-large grave.

His emerald eyes focussed only on the coffin as good, respectful words were said about one of the most decorated Admirals in Archipelago history. They flicked up momentarily to the newish stone just beside the open grave, seeing the familiar words that he had paid to be inscribed on his mother's monument. And then he was called forward by the Priest and he took a shuddering breath. For a moment, he looked over at Astrid, seeing her staring back at him, her blue eyes filled with sympathy. She had buried her father previously so she could appreciate some of the emotions he was feeling…but not all. She ghosted a smile and he found himself returning it, feeling a warmth in his chest. And then he stepped forward.

"My father, Admiral Stoick Vastus Haddock was a great man," he began and then paused. "And he was loved and respected, a man with a host of commendations and medals, loved by his men, respected by his officers and peers. He loved his wife, Valka, my Mom. They were soulmates and spent every moment they could together-despite his tours of duty and her trips abroad for animal conservation. And I know they were both proud of me, their only child and my beautiful wife, Cami and our little son Sam." He swallowed. "But two years ago, everything was ripped apart. A man named Dagur Oswaldson, the terrorist Dagur 'the Deranged', decided my family were to die for a mission I had performed at the behest of my President. And so my wife, son and I were captured…and my parents were attacked. They were shot at, the car blown up and my father shot six times as he defended himself."

There was a silence replete with shock and horror. Few knew the story and Hiccup felt eyes focus on him.

"My mother was killed outright and my father was saved-but thrown into an irreversible coma," he continued, his voice almost cracking. "The man I knew and loved, the man we honoured died that day…even though his heart only stopped beating a few weeks ago. My wife and son were killed and I was shot and left for dead in a shallow grave. My friends saved me and I buried my family and swore revenge. But my father hung on, stubborn to the last. He died as I was in the middle of the mission where I finally stopped Dagur…and where we uncovered his links to President Drago Bludvist. The man had betrayed me and caused the deaths of my family…and Admiral Haddock."

Astrid saw him waver and she gently walked up to him, taking his hand and leaning close to him.

"You are doing them all justice," she murmured. "You can do this, Hiccup." He leaned close to her and kissed her on the cheek.

"Thanks," he whispered as she sat back down then looked up. "My father would be ashamed of what I became to avenge him. Betrayed by those who should've protected me and mine, I became a hitman, a killer for hire. I made acquaintance with the worst of humanity to get to the one monster who slaughtered everyone I loved. But my friends refused to let me give up on life…and when I was trapped by Homeland Security Agents, who wanted to finish Dagur off, I took their contract. And they helped me get what I wanted…but at the cost of missing my father's last hour. I avenged him, with the help of my friends…but what he said to me when I was younger was true: Revenge never rights the wrongs that have happened. It only reciprocates the evil first done to you and damages you as well. So I want to recall my father as he was: larger than life, vibrant, loud, powerful, proud. The huge man with the flaming red beard and the voice that could be heard all the way across a battleship. The man who had a ferocious temper…but who could be gentle and supportive to the lowliest apprentice seaman…or the skinniest fishbone of a son. I hope and I pray I will see him in Valhalla one day…but until then, I will miss him and do my best to make him proud."

Applause rang out as the seamen in attendance walked to their positions. There was a short pause as the Priest moved to the head of the grave and opened his service sheet.

"We commend Admiral Stoick Haddock to the soil, that he may be honoured and remembered and reunited with his beloved Valka. And that he will one day be reunited with his son and friends in Valhalla, Odin willing…"

Hiccup saluted, a rigid military salute that thickened Astrid's throat, seeing the furious concentration in his face. Gobber saluted as well as the casket was lowered into the ground to the sound of Taps and then two seamen precisely folded the flag. One presented the thick cloth triangle to Hiccup and the former soldier accepted it wordlessly and saluted them. People got up and mumbled words of commiseration to the young man as they passed. Acting President Grimborn paused.

"Your Pardon has been issued, Lieutenant Haddock," he said smoothly. "And may we call upon your services once more for the Archipelago?" Hiccup's hands tightened round the folded flag.

"I think you can expect my resignation on medical grounds, sir," he said tonelessly. "No man should have to go through what I did. And I cannot serve as I used to. There will be others to take my place." Grimborn nodded.

"Maybe it is for the best," he commented. "Your service was exceptional. And I doubt anyone will equal the shot you pulled off to finish Oswald Oswaldson."

"Thank you. sir," he said automatically as the President turned away-just as Gobber came up and hugged the young man.

"Ah, laddie-yer Dad would ha' bin very proud of yer," he said as Hiccup winced. His ribs were healing but nowhere near tolerating a Gobber bone-crushing hug.

"Ow…" the young man whined and the two-limbed bartender gave a sheepish grin. "Thanks, Gobber."

"I 'spect yer'll be seekin' yer own place now yer a free man…" Gobber said mournfully but Hiccup shook his head.

"Got no plans in that regard," he confessed, looking up and seeing a very solid shape standing at the back. her blonde hair scraped back into a bun. "Excuse me, Gobber…" His tone was distracted as he pulled away…and then walked past the rest of the mourners towards her. Astrid followed him and then paused, seeing him approach Bertha Bogby. The woman stared into his face and muttered a few words. He bowed his head and paused and then shook his head. Bertha said a few words…and then turned and walked away.

Quietly, Astrid walked up to him and rested a hand on his arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked him gently. He stared at the ground and then shook his head.

"Bertha Bogby was my wife's mother," he explained. "Cami was her only child and Sam her only grandchild. She is the last of her family…"

"The former ruling family of BogThorpe," she finished and his eyes flicked up. "I visited their graves, remember? Doesn't she realise it wasn't your fault? You did everything you could…" He looked up with a melancholy smile.

"Grief isn't rational, Astrid," he reminded her. "And when something so heinous happens, you have to deal with the loss whatever way you can. I survived my own execution but Cami and Sam died. I understand why Bertha blames me. Helheim-I blame myself…and I always will. And though I know I was in an impossible situation, that I was betrayed all ways from Sunday, I will always imagine that there should have been something I could have done to have saved my wife and child."

"I understand," she said, her hand finding his. "But you have friends, Hiccup. People who care about you. People who want you. And no matter what you feel, remember that." His hand curled around hers and he sighed.

"I endangered them all in my quest for vengeance, Astrid. _Mine_. Not theirs." His voice was filled with loathing.

"Tuff and Ruff knew the risks-and they don't blame you," she reminded him. "They're adults…"

"…barely…"

"…and they made their own choices," she told him sternly. "Somehow, you have to learn to live with yours. You're not a god, Hiccup. You can't control fate or the actions of evil men. All you can do is defend those you love and the innocent. And you cannot save everyone…but you protected everyone in the Archipelago from the machinations of an evil man."

He nodded and his grip tightened on hers.

"One thing bothers me," he murmured. "Why didn't I shoot him when I had the chance?" She sighed and stared into his face.

"Because you're a good man," she reminded him. He snorted. "You are…and good men don't execute public officials who have committed crimes. They bring them to trial so that everyone can know what they did and see justice done. They believe in the law." He gave a bitter laugh.

"Even when the law hasn't protected them," he noted. "Must be mad. They never found Ryker Grimborn, did they?"

"No," she conceded. "He must have escaped."

"He's the Acting-President's brother, isn't he?" Hiccup pointed out. "Do you think Viggo Grimborn would turn in his own brother?"

"His brother was willing enough to turn on him when it suited him," Astrid replied.

"Maybe Ryker has something on Viggo?" Hiccup suggested, his eyes narrowing. "There is something bothering me."

"Something else?' she teased him and he managed a small smile.

"Drago Bludvist didn't have any problem admitting that he used Dagur to terrorise us and bring in the laws he wanted," he reminded her. "But he was adamant that he didn't issue the order to kill Oswald."

"Yet you said yourself, the order came from the President," she mused, inspecting his face. He looked concerned.

"Control of Heimdallr was always a Presidential prerogative," he said carefully. "But it is entirely possible that one of Drago Bludvist's staff could have issued the order in his name."

"Why?" she asked him and his eyes hardened.

"How should I know?" he snarked back. She sighed.

"Because Director Jorgensen will ask me why he should continue an investigation that is complete," she told him plainly. He shrugged.

"Because the person who ordered the execution of the former candidate for the Presidency of the Archipelago should be imprisoned?" he suggested. "I mean, that's a pretty chilling precedent to set…you challenge for the top job, lose and the state eliminates you so you can't try again?" She leaned forward and kissed his cheek.

"I'll look into it," she murmured and slid a card into his hand. "Call me, okay?" He smiled and kissed her back.

"You can contact me through Toothless," he reminded her. "Until I am sure that they are all gone, I can't risk my friends again." She nodded and with a final squeeze of the hand, she walked away.

"You don't find a girl like her every day," Toothless murmured as he and the twins walked forward from the respectful distance they had been keeping. "Why did you let her go, H?"

"Because I am falling for her," he murmured. "And I feel like I'm betraying Cami by doing so. I mean, I promised to love Cami…"

"Until death do us part?" Ruff suggested. "And that has already happened. I met your wife and she wouldn't want you to spend the rest of your life as a hermit."

"Is that a crab?" Tuff asked hopefully. He was still moving gingerly though his spirit was completely undimmed. He and Ruff were wearing matching brown pinstriped suits and the effect was extremely weird. "Because spending the rest of your life as a crab would be officially cool, NF…"

"Muttonhead," Hiccup muttered, though he grasped Tuff's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He was touched by the male twin's bravery at the climax in that dusty collapsing ballroom and he knew Ruff was intensely (but secretly) proud of her brother.

"I should be calling you that," Toothless told him, standing at his side. "Did you get her number?"

"Yes," he murmured, flipping the card in his hand.

"And are you going to call her?"

"No."

"Why?" Ruff whined. "I want my happy ending…"

"Well, that lardass Fishlegs has called you and you've been on two dates already…" Tuff reminded her.

"Not my happy ending…my Hiccup's happy ending…" she amended.

"Oh Thor, I am definitely not _your_ Hiccup…" the hitman told her firmly.

"You're my friend and I want to see you happy!" she reminded him. He sighed.

"Maybe…that's not my lot in life," he said. There was a pause.

"And maybe you need to make peace with what has happened and then move forward with your life," Toothless told him.

"That's pretty much what Astrid said," he admitted.

"Smart woman," the handler told him. "So was that all she said?" Hiccup paused.

"Not quite," he murmured. "I hope I've said enough to have Special Agent Hofferson looking into the very last loose end."

oOo

Back at her desk, Astrid made a thorough search through all the records that were public and that she could access through her own clearance to investigate the events of two and a half years earlier. However, no matter what she tried, she ended up being thwarted by the fact that Heimdallr's missions were classified way above her clearance level.

After a fresh cup of coffee, she walked over to Fishlegs's desk and tapped him on the shoulder, noting that his screensaver was now a picture of him and Ruffnut, huddled together over a pink cocktail stuffed with umbrellas, fruit and a sparkler. She blinked and then tapped him once more. He started and looked up guiltily, blue-green eyes wide in shock.

"I take it you're not concentrating on your current assignment?" she guessed and he eeped.

"Um no?" he gulped. "Ruff asked me to source some rocket launchers and…"

"And you know that abusing your government clearance to secure a deal on military grade ordnance for private unregistered contractors is a jailable offence?" she asked him dryly.

"Am not! They're fully registered to sell guns!" Fishlegs protested.

"But not rocket launchers!" she said sarcastically. "Look, can I get you to look something up?"

"Why do I get the impression this something involves me hacking some super-secret government system that we have no right accessing?" he moaned.

"Because that is precisely what you are going to do," she told him. "I need you to access the Presidential Commands and find out precisely who gave the command to kill Oswald Oswaldson!"

"But that was President Bludvist," Fishlegs said simply.

"Please check again-console, security footage, anything to confirm he personally sent the command," Astrid told him in a low voice. "Because he still denies the act even though he's facing multiple life sentences for his other crimes. We must be sure."

"I'll need to run the search from Director Jorgensen's console," the husky agent protested. "And he works pretty late…"

"Not on Thursdays," she told him smugly. "It's his Boar-Wrestling class. So he leaves early…and you can go in then."

"But messing with that kind of stuff…well, it's treason…"

"And issuing an order in the name of the President when you aren't also is treason," she reminded him. "Come on, Fish…you know you want to know."

"I'm very happy not knowing…" he told her quickly.

"No you're not. And nor am I. Or her…" She gestured to the picture. "Hiccup is her friend…and he was used. I want to know…by who…"

"Oh…all right…" Fishlegs huffed. "Will she know I did this?"

"I promise to tell her," Astrid said.

"Okay, I'll do it," Fishlegs conceded as Astrid grinned.

"Fantastic!" she said.

"What will you be doing? Watching my back?" he asked hopefully.

"No-I have a phone call to make," she grinned. "After all, this may be an Inter-Agency Matter…and I need to make sure we have friends on our side."

oOo

The manager of the shooting range didn't even bat an eyelid as Hiccup walked in, still in his uniform, though the top button was now undone and his uniform cap was tucked under one arm. He checked into a lane, grabbed his ear defenders and chose a Svenson and Larson .45 calibre Mk 1.7 pistol.

The other patrons were a little less sanguine and all stopped as he walked to his lane, set the target back at a suitable distance and pulled his ear defenders and glasses on. Then he lifted the pistol, took aim and flipped the safety off. He fired.

Dagur's face flashed in front of his eyes, the eyes fey and filled with hatred as they had been in that last confrontation.

_"_ _Where is Astrid?"_

_"_ _Same place as your wife. I'll show you…if you drop the gun."_

_"_ _I will let you live if you give me Astrid's location."_

_"_ _You'd give up your revenge for her? Drop the gun."_

He fired again, the shot holing the centre of the target. In his mind, he heard Dagur's screams as he methodically shot joint after joint. He hadn't believed he was capable of such cruelty but at the time, there had been no conscience, no regrets at all.

 _"_ _What are you prepared to give up?"_ Dagur's taunting voice echoed through his mind.

 _My soul. My honour. The pride of my father. But not Astrid. Not her. Not after you took everything else._ And he recalled his own words just as clearly as he fired again and again.

_"_ _You misunderstand me. This isn't a negotiation. I have offered to allow you to live. But I want you to talk. Where is Astrid?"_

His hand was shaking as he ejected the magazine.

_"_ _You can't do this! I am protected. You and your friends and their families will be annihilated for this! I swear that! I…"_

He slammed another magazine into the slot and fired again. Every eye was on him. He hadn't strayed from the bull…but in his mind, the round exploded Dagur's knee. The Berserker's howl echoed through his memory.

" _Where is Astrid?"_

_"_ _But you can't do this!"_

He fired, his eyes not seeing the target but the bloody wreckage of the man who had haunted his nightmares for so long, the man who had stolen everything from Hiccup for the crime of doing his job and following orders.

" _Astrid. Where is she?"_

_"_ _Where we all end up!"_

_"_ _WHERE. IS. SHE?"_

_"_ _Time's up. She'll be gone now."_

Tears were coursing down his cheeks as he fired over and over. Dad. Mom. Cami. Sam.

"Then you have lived too long," he said aloud. "I have lived too long." And he raised the gun to his head.

_"_ _What too you so long?"_

_"_ _There should always be a Hiccup and Astrid, remember?"_

_"_ _Why didn't you ask?"_

_"_ _Remember-you have friends and people who care for you."_

_"_ _There should always be a Hiccup and Astrid…"_

His eyes were closed and he could feel his hand shaking. The muzzle was pressed against his temple. And all it would take is a little pressure and all the pain would end. A little pressure and he would end his story as a failure, a man who didn't have the courage to go on after avenging his family. A man who would leave his family and friends always wondering of they could have done more. A man who would finally dishonour his family.

_No more Hiccup and Astrid._

Tears spilled down his cheeks as he lowered the gun and pulled out the magazine, then flipped the safety on. Swiping his face with his sleeve, he dragged off his ear defenders and glasses and grabbed his cap, leaving the gun on the counter. Unable to meet anyone's eye, he almost ran to the door, his head down. There was an audible sigh as he left from the other patrons, who were dreading the final shot.

But Hiccup was already in Gobber's car, flooring the gas and blinking away the tears. He knew where he had to go.

oOo

Astrid was toying with her coffee, idly stirring in a fifth sugar and watching the granules swirl and gradually dissolve as her contact finally slid into the seat opposite her. There was a pause as she looked up and he sipped his coffee.

"This is rather tepid," Agent Eretson said.

"You're rather late," she retorted as the man grinned back, his caramel-brown eyes filled with humour.

"Well, it takes a little time to sneak highly confidential files out of the AIS HQ," he admitted as she smiled at him.

"And I am grateful," she said, reaching for the package-but he moved it out of reach.

"Not so quick, Agent Hofferson…or can I call you Astrid?" he said smoothly.

"You can call me impatient," she replied brusquely.

"You really need to work on your people skills," he commented. "I need to know what this is about."

"OK-but if we find what I suspect we do, then I lead," she told him.

"And what are you expecting to find?" he teased her. "I guess from the file, it will relate to Oswald Oswaldson's death." She nodded.

"I lead," she insisted.

"Why?"

"I made a promise," she admitted.

"To an auburn-haired hitman?" he asked astutely.

"To a man who served his country and was betrayed by it," she corrected him. "Bludvist used Hiccup and his family as the currency to get Dagur to play his game and do what Bludvist wanted, to wreak the mayhem that almost handed him complete power over us all."

Nodding, Eret Eretson slid the buff folder over to the blonde agent and watched her carefully open it, her blue eyes skilfully scanning over the picture of the dead man and then flicking through the pages. She paused and read one report three times before she smiled and closed the file.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "That answers everything."

"So what do we do now?" Eret asked. Astrid finished her coffee and then nearly gagged at the hideously sweet liquid. She coughed and spat some out.

"Ugh. We go and see the one person who has the power to do something about this," she told him. "Do you fancy a trip to the Government Building?" He rose.

"I thought you'd never ask," he said.

oOo

The Cemetery in BogThorpe was quiet, the gentle sound of hoeing just audible above the soft crunch of his feet as he walked along the manicured paths. He knew the way to the old section and he headed unerringly for the stones he knew so well. But even now, he paused as he stopped in front of them. One was his own empty grave, carefully made to hide his existence and grant him the free rein to pursue the vengeance he had finally completed. But the others caused his chest to tighten and his heart to shudder.

**CAMILLA BOGBY HADDOCK**

**BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER**

And…

**SAMUEL STOICK HADDOCK**

**AGE 18 MONTHS**

He dropped to his knees and rested a hand on each stone. His shoulders jerked as he sobbed, his choked sobs the only sound.

"I'm sorry, Milady. I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm sorry I lived. I'm sorry it took long to avenge you. I'm sorry I couldn't stop them. I'm sorry I'm not with you now, hugging you. But I'm too much of a coward to even kill myself…"

A hand rested briefly on his shoulder and he stiffened.

"Cami wouldn't have wanted that," Bertha said. There was a hitch in her voice, betraying her own sorrow. She was as well-built and tall as Cami had been petite, though both shared the same expressive blue eyes and long golden hair. "She loved you until the instant of her death. And I know she loves you now. She was so wedded to life, to helping others…she wouldn't want you to give up."

"I miss her," he mumbled thickly. She gently stroked his head.

"That blonde woman at the funeral seemed to want to help you," she said tightly. He sniffed, his head still bowed.

"She's a friend," he mumbled. Bertha snorted.

"She could be more," she guessed. He sighed, his hand still resting on his wife's grave.

"I…like her…" he admitted. "But every time I feel happy with her, I instantly feel guilt consume me. Cami is dead and I shouldn't even think about being happy, about maybe moving on…"

"You should!" Bertha snapped, causing him to finally look up. "It's over two years, Hiccup. And you are alive! Look-what did she tell those poor girls? What did she tell _everyone_ who came to the Refuge? Not that their life was over, that the terrible things that happened to them were the end, but merely a comma in their story. That life continues and you cannot let the bad things win. You have to lift your chin and own the darkness, corral the pain and use it as your strength. You have to live-or they will truly have won."

"I'm sorry I couldn't save her," he whispered. "I tried, Bertha. I…"

"I know," she sighed. "And I think…seeing you at your father's funeral brought it all back to me. I was unkind…because you didn't deserve it. Because I miss her as well. She was all I have. She and Sam."

"I know. I'm sorry…"

"So you don't let my Cami down, Hiccup Haddock," she said sternly. "I forgive you. I know she never blamed you. And she and I want you to be happy. So do what you have to do-and be happy. Take the life you were given and live it. Go see that girl. Fall in love. Be happy."

"I…don't know what to say…" he murmured. She pulled him to his feet and stared into the shining emerald eyes.

"Remember I am always here for you, Hiccup," she said. "And one day, when you have another family, remember me. I am always available for honorary GrandMom duties. We are family. Nothing can alter that. I forgot it. But not any more."

He embraced her and felt strong arms wrap around him, hugging him fiercely. And he didn't mind the twinges his healing ribs gave him, because somehow, they didn't hurt.

"Live your life, Hiccup-and go and fall in love," Bertha said. "And I'll be here if you ever need me."


	24. Return from the Edge

**Twenty-Four: Return from the Edge**

The Granite Office was the seat of the President of the United Archipelago, a magnificent space lined with grey mottled granite and dominated by a black granite desk, marked with a few iridescent inclusions, poised to a mirror sheen. The Archipelago Flag hung behind the black leather chair of the President, which was occupied by the precise shape of Viggo Grimborn, signing Presidential Orders with a flourish. He barely looked up as the door opened and three shapes walked in.

"Ah-Vice President Winger," he said smoothly. "I have been expecting you. I trust this is to do with Drago Bludvist's trial?" Atali Winger planted her hands on her hips and sighed.

"I regret I have another matter of equal severity to report," she said and Viggo finally looked up.

"Oh?"

"We have located the fugitive, Ryker Grimborn-hiding at your home," she told him as he gave an exaggerated sigh.

"My brother knows my home well and I am certain he would find it easy to…" he began but Atali shook her head.

"He was in your kitchen making breakfast-and had been sleeping in a guest bed upstairs," she added. "I doubt you would have failed to notice him, sir." Viggo steepled his fingers and leaned forward.

"Family is family," he explained. "That comes above all."

"Indeed," Astrid said as she walked forward. "Three years ago, the village of Jaegerby was annihilated by the men of Oswald Oswaldson. Not one single person escaped alive. And among the families that were wiped from existence…were the whole Grimborn family." Viggo stiffened.

"A fact I am not unaware of," he said tightly. "If that is all, I have a million things to do…"

"It's not," Atali said quietly.

"At the same time, Drago Bludvist was fighting Oswald in the polls…and of course, he won by a landslide," Eret continued, his delivery smooth and assured. "His Vice President and running mate saw the opportunity to eliminate the man who had wiped out his entire family, his home village. He raised the matter of Oswald at an extraordinary meeting of the new Cabinet. His demands for a final solution to Oswald was rejected."

Viggo's hand slid slowly across the desk towards the drawer and the concealed gun.

"Undeterred, he amended the cabinet minutes and issued the executive Order in Drago Bludvist's name to Heimdallr Black Ops Unit-and its finest sniper, Lieutenant Hiccup H Haddock," Astrid continued. "He proceeded with the mission as if it were authorised by the President…because as far as he was concerned, it was. You know, we thought it was Bludvist eliminating a Presidential rival…but it was too soon in his reign to make such a decisive move that even the dimmest voter would realise was a very large step towards despotism. We never considered that Oswald's death itself would be for revenge. Yet that's what it was-murder using the instruments of Government an the Armed Forces to take your vengeance on the evil man who killed your family."

"I am afraid you are mistaken…" Viggo interrupted her.

"Every digital transaction leave a trace-even after two and a half years," Astrid told him evenly. "And we had security footage showing you at the very console at the time the minutes were overwritten and the 'Presidential Order' was issued. I am afraid there is no mistake."

"You really cannot imagine how terrible it was to find them strewn like dead livestock, the homes burned and everything gone!" Viggo snapped. "A thousand years of history of my Hunter clan-erased. Ryker and I were the only ones left. And of course he would never betray me-family is above everything. But one of us had to go with him when he made his move and we knew I had to remain separate so I could assume power once he was impeached…so Ryker 'joined' him. And escaped when it all went south. Even if he overdid his acting..."

"Removing Oswald was a terrible deed-but could be justified if all the politicians were in agreement, having weighed all the pros and cons, legalities and moral dimension…but they did and found it could not be justified. So you broke the law for your vengeance and used soldiers to kill him. One of them was then betrayed by Bludvist to use Oswald's son for his own ends. Had you trusted to the law and the security services, we could have stopped him. We would have stopped them both."

"You are under arrest for conspiracy to commit murder," Eret said. "Stand up, Mister Grimborn!"

"I am your President!" Viggo yelled, grabbing the gun-but Astrid fired her stunner at the same moment. He collapsed back into the chair.

"Not any more," she commented and looked over to Vice-President Winger. "Is Article 47 signed?"

"As of one hour ago…with the agreement of the entire Cabinet and all the heads of the security services," she confirmed. "Please can you make sure he is taken to the appropriate facility and cared for until the stunner wears off. And then we will arrange for his arraignment." Astrid smiled.

"Yes, Madame President," she said and nodded to Eret, who lifted the unconscious shape of Viggo, carefully cuffed him and slung him over his shoulder. Astrid nodded as Atali moved to the desk.

"He didn't do it, you know," she said to the agent. "Neither of them did."

"I don't understand…" Astrid began but the new Acting-President smiled.

"The Pardon. Neither of them issued a Presidential Pardon for Hiccup Haddock in recognition of the wrongs that happened to him as a direct result of the criminality of senior members of the Government and the assistance he tendered in ending the threats of Dagur, Drago Bludvist…and, I guess, Viggo Grimborn…to the people of the Archipelago. So I have. As of the hour I took office, he is a free man, to do whatever he wishes with his life." And she smiled. "I thought you might want to give him the news, Agent Hofferson." Astrid nodded.

"Thank you, Madame President-I am certain he will be very grateful," she said and headed for the door. Eret was gone and she knew he would have taken care of Viggo, as they had agreed-so she got the good job, for once. Pulling out her phone, she dialled the number she had been given in Berserk. After three rings, Toothless answered.

"This had better be good," he warned her but she smiled.

"It's okay," she said. "I don't have his number and I know you are in touch with him. You can tell him he was right: Viggo Grimborn gave the order. And now he's facing charges of murder and corruption. It's over."

oOo

There was a huge jolt of deja vu as Astrid Hofferson walked up to the bar a week later. It was dark and cold in the alleyway and the sounds of several people fighting were permeating from within, along with the sounds of smashing glass and heavy rock. Glancing up, she saw the sign had suffered a little and two more letters had taken to flickering on and usually off, meaning she was now walking into 'THE DRAGO'S EG'. Lips tilting in a smile, she pushed the door open and walked in.

Several bikers were just about still moving, though feebly and a large man with a bucket improbably on his head was aimlessly sweeping around them to try to get the glass up from the sticky floor., completely ignoring their injuries. Swerving around barfight losers and the rather disinterested janitor, she made it to the bar and grinned at the barman.

"Evening, Gobber," she said.

"He's not here," the man said automatically and she shrugged.

"Can you tell him I am. Please?" she asked him quietly and his blue eyes narrowed.

"I'm not sure what yer planning fer that poor laddie now but..." Gobber began protectively but she raised her hands to appease him.

"I'm off duty," she told him quickly. "This is just a social visit and this is literally the only place I know I can get hold of him."

"Mebbe he doesnae want tae be gotten hold of?" Gobber asked her pointedly and she shrugged.

"Maybe I really really want to get hold of him?" she asked him pointedly. "And he deserves the choice? Not for anything professional but because...he owes me a date." Gobber scowled, looking sceptical. "I found out his middle name, Gobber. I saw the graves of his wife and son. I made sure he got his revenge...and everyone involved in their deaths is answering for their actions. And if he doesn't want to speak to me, I will be devastated...because he _did_ kiss me. And I think there should be a Hiccup and Astrid."

"AWWWW."

Barman and customer looked up as the janitor leaned on the broom, a gooey expression on his big face, his long blond beard quivering as he seemed on the brink of tears. "Gobber, you gotta tell her that he..."

"Bucket...I think the johns are backed up again!" Gobber growled quickly. The man with the bucket on his head...who seemed to be called 'Bucket', suddenly looked determined.

"I'll sort them out right away," he promised and turned away. Astrid raised an eyebrow.

"Interesting staff you have here," she commented and Gobber grinned.

"No one else would employ him," he explained warmly. "He was struck by lightning on his farm up in the mountains a few years back and he's...well, simple. So his brother Mulch and he lost the farm and they came down here looking for work so I look out for them here." He sighed. "He's not a very good janitor but he means well." Then he leaned forward. "And Hiccup was expecting you tae turn up, lass-so he asked me to be ready for you. He seemed to think ye didnae like meh best bourbon."

"No," she admitted honestly. "Tastes like metal polish."

"Barbarian," Gobber grumbled under his breath but reached down under the bar and fished out a green glass bottle from the ice bucket. "He suggested this would be better for you." Astrid peered at a French White Burgundy and nodded.

"I prefer wine," she admitted and Gobber nodded professionally, using his prosthetic hand-which was currently a corkscrew/bottle opener-to uncork the bottle and pour a generous measure into a perfectly clean and smudge-free wine glass that was whisked from under the bar. She smiled. "That's perfect," she admitted as she took a sip. Gobber carefully recorked the bottle and placed it back in the ice bucket.

"Aye, well the laddie insisted I had something special fer yer," he told her. "I think he may like you too… And yer were kind tae him at the funeral as well…" Her eyes glittered and for a moment, the older man could see why his young friend was enamoured with the blonde special agent, despite the huge negative factor of her job.

"I hope so," she admitted. "I mean, he's sarcastic and sassy and kills people for a job but he is kind, decisive, brave, selfless, a great leader and he is so cute when he gets self-conscious and rubs the back of his neck and..."

"I'll get meh good suit cleaned, shall I?" Gobber asked and she face-palmed.

"Maybe I should meet him first?" she suggested and he looked embarrassed.

"I've got a table waiting fer yer," he added, gesturing over to the far corner by the pool table as she raised an eyebrow.

"Ah-don't want me scaring the other customers?" she guessed and he nodded.

"Something like that," he admitted as she lifted the glass and carefully weaved her way around the semi-conscious bikers who were slowly being dragged onto the street by a very small, round, hairy man and a bald man with jug ears and a long, floppy blond moustache. Finding the table-which was tucked in a shadowy corner, she took the seat with the wall to her back and set the glass in the middle of the table, scanning the space. The music had changed from heavy rock to 'Nellie the Elephant' and she grinned, guessing who had been at the juke box. Though the bar had a fearsome reputation, once you got to know Gobber, the place was more like a family bar with added temporary dangerous characters...but the regulars looked after each other.

Sipping her excellent wine, she scanned the room. She hadn't expected to find Hiccup here, of course but she could still recall her first view of the tall, lean man, dressed in his casual outfit and winning at pool-then finishing off the men who tried to cheat him. She sighed and sat back. Maybe he wouldn't come and this would be it...but her heart told her that he wanted to stay in touch and that the kisses had been real.

The scrape of a chair dragged her back to reality and she looked up-into the face of a large, ugly man with pock-marked and scarred face, his dark eyes inspecting her covetously.

"Mind if I sit here?" he asked.

"Yes, I do mind," she told him bluntly. "That seat is taken."

"It is now," he told her and sat down, eyeing her chest. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing in a bar like this?" She sighed and sipped her wine, then very carefully, she placed it on the floor under her chair, right back against the wall.

"Wanting you to go and waiting for my friend," she answered shortly. He scowled, his black brows dipping. He was dressed in leathers with studs on the shoulders, his big hands sliding over the sticky wood of the table.

"But I thought we could be friends," he told her lecherously and she sighed.

"No thanks," she said, her booted foot slamming up and straight between his legs with every ounce of strength she possessed. He yelled in pain as her fist arched up, catching the point of his jaw and slamming him back-and in that second, she moved, her other hand slapping onto his forehead and using her weight and momentum to slam his head hard down onto the floor. He was knocked senseless instantly. Standing up, she kicked him off the chair and then righted it, leaving the unconscious man lying on the floor and looking over at the two men who were disposing of the unwanted guests. The small man gave a very amiable grin from behind his wild greying beard and ambled forward, grabbing the hapless biker by the ankle and generously adding to his head injuries by clunking his head against every chair and table leg he could manage on the way out.

Sitting back and sipping her wine, she heard a footstep approach and rolled her eyes, tensing to fend off another unwanted advance.

"Mind if I sit here-or should I have brought a crash helmet?" Hiccup asked. Face lighting with relief, she surged to her feet and took two steps towards him, grabbing his face and kissing him thoroughly. When she pulled back, he grinned. "I'll take that as a yes," he added and plopped down.

"Where have you been?" she demanded, searching his face for any signs of injury or wariness-but he was smiling at her.

"I needed a little time," he admitted. "Needed to sort out Dad's last few affairs, needed to visit Cami and Sam and to talk to Bertha. Properly. At length. And I needed to sort my head and my heart out about what I feel for you." She sipped her wine again and sat back.

"Oh," she said, unsure how to respond. Another glass slammed onto the table-a matching wine glass with the same excellent wine within. Gobber gave a huge grin.

"Anything else you two want?" he asked indiscreetly. Hiccup sighed.

"Maybe a little privacy?" he suggested as Gobber's face fell a smidgeon. Then he winked.

"Ah. AHHH! Right, I'll just be off over there, minding meh own business...don't mind ole Gobber..." he rambled, giving Hiccup a thumb's up sign as he headed back for the bar. Groaning and face-palming, the young man blushed.

"Thor, strike me down with lightning now,' he muttered.

"Please no," she commented. "I've only just found you again." He sipped his drink and then very carefully sat back. He could hear steps approach and Astrid's eyes widened as three men in similar outfit to the man she had laid out gathered around the young couple.

"'Ere! We saw what you did to Gudjon!" the first one said and there was a pause as Hiccup turned his head to glare at the men.

"Ah. Was he the arrogant imbecile who chose to sit in my place with my friend here when she told him the seat was taken?" he clarified pleasantly.

"It's taken when he says it it," the man sneered. "And you are?" Emerald eyes narrowed as Hiccup gave a very cold smile.

"Night Fury," he breathed. "Wanna annoy me some more?"

The men gaped and backed off, sharing looks that plainly said _'Oh Thor-this is the most feared hitman in the Archipelago and we've just pissed him off.'_

"Um…no..sorry to have wasted your time…um…bye…" the man said and he and his fellows broke for it and ran for the door. Both Hiccup and Astrid watched them go-and them burst out laughing.

"A reputation is a terrible thing to waste," the hitman said as he chuckled. "And it sometimes reduces complications…" She shook her head, still laughing. He was here, his emerald eyes filled with life and hope which had been missing when she first met him. Now, he had done what he had planned to and had additionally saved the Archipelago and himself.

"It's a good reputation," she commented. "And now you have a choice. After all-you were pardoned of all crimes committed to the date that Atali Winger took over as Acting President. So you have a clean slate. If you want to use it." His face fell and he sighed.

"I may have earned a pardon for my efforts in ending Dagur and ensuring all the people who caused the deaths of my family are facing justice," he reminded her. "But what else have I got left? I quit the Berk Rangers after the funeral. The army won't re-enlist me because of everything that has happened and Heimdallr wouldn't touch me in any case. So what else is left for me? Gun shop owner? Firearms instructor? Bouncer? Cop?"

"Thor, no," she murmured, momentarily imagining him in a cop's uniform and feeling her pulse accelerate. "I mean, there are far better things that you could be doing with your life than those." He stared at her and took a sip of her wine by accident. "Hey…" Her tone was reproachful and he blushed in embarrassment.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"Look-you have shown exceptional skills in infiltrating Dagur's Berserker Organisation, in planning and executing the ambush and in improvising the solutions to dealing with Bludvist and his men," she told him.

"Aww-and I thought you didn't notice," he sassed back. She took his hands.

"Very serious," she reminded him firmly. "Honestly, Hiccup-you're someone I trust my life with…and there are about two people in that club." His lips curled up in a smirk.

"Club, eh? Are there caps and T-shirts?" he asked her. She chuckled.

"And a special handshake," she added. "I'm serious. And I think we could use a man like you."

His expression hardened and the humour left his eyes.

"That's the problem," he told her, his tone cold. "I've been used all my life. And look what it got me."

"Then be part of something that gives you freedom to be yourself and still use your skills…" she began. He sat back, pulling his hands free of her gentle grasp and taking a long chug of his wine.

"You want me to join your little club?" he asked sarcastically. "Sit there like a good boy next to Fish and Snothat? Take orders with a smile from Director frickin' Jorgensen?"

"Did you just say frickin'?" she asked.

"Public venue," he snapped back. "I'd last ten minutes before I shot him. I couldn't join BHS."

"I'm not asking you to," she cut in, her eyes glittering. He started and his eyes widened. "Look, Acting-President Winger wants to shake up the intelligence agencies because they really aren't working. ASS are being disbanded in favour of a smaller 'Presidential Security Unit' while AIS and BHS are being overhauled. I think BHS is being revamped into a criminal and security agency to deal with civilian and foreign threats to security and director Jorgensen is being moved aside to allow Throk to take charge. He's reliable and humourless…which is perfect for the post. AIS is becoming the AIA-the Archipelago Intelligence Agency with Mala Queen taking the reins."

Hiccup thought for a moment.

"I was under the impression that Caldera Cay and its heads were a secret," he reminded her. She sighed and sipped her drink.

"Caldera Cay has been knocked to bits by what we did to it and it's going to take years to rebuild, renovate and restore after what happened," she explained. "And President Winger knows what Mala and Throk are capable of. She just made them a better offer."

"Shame-I was hoping they wanted me as security at Caldera Cay. Looked like a nice cushy job…long periods of sitting in the spa and relaxing and short periods of almost being killed and blowing the shit out of the place…" he sassed back. "Okay…Mala is a good choice. But won't the regular agents get pissed that someone who has been off the grid and killed people for a living is suddenly shoehorned into their precious starched-ass group?" Astrid sat back now and she was definitely smiling.

"Mala and the President proposed a special unit," she began and he rolled his eyes.

" _Special_ is never good," he grumbled. "I was recruited to Heimdallr by being told it was a _special_ assignment, lots of prestige and the chance for adventure and travel…"

"Really? And you _actually_ bought that?"

"Yeah…and being the good soldier and good son, I wanted my Dad to be proud of me and see I was making a difference. And I was only eighteen. Instead, I was taught to kill really, really well and then used…"

"This _special_ will be slightly different," the blonde agent suggested, hearing the edge to his voice. Even now, the mention of his father caused him pain. Toothless had filled her in that Hiccup and his Dad had been really close and the younger Hiccup had craved his father's approval…so that when he lost everything and used his skills for murder for hire and revenge, he had the strongest belief that his father would have been ashamed of his son. "This _special_ is a select group of people who work well together and who can tackle the most unexpected and dangerous situations using innovation, improvisation, determination and exceptional skills…"

"I don't like where this is going…" he muttered.

"I think she's calling it 'Strike Unit'," she continued.

"Dumb name," he condemned, finishing his wine.

"You could do better?" she challenged him.

"Working on it," he retorted with a small smile. "Who else will be in this select group?" She grinned.

"Me," she said. "Fish. And I was hoping that maybe Toothless and the twins would join us. And you. Especially you." He inspected her face and smiled.

"You know, I think I may not be anywhere near as good at taking orders as I used to be…" he reminded her.

"Not how a team works," she riposted.

"Pretty sure it's sort of supposed to…" he sassed. "I mean, it wouldn't be much of a team if no one followed any sort of hierarchy…"

"You mean like Snotlout?"

"Especially like Snotlout…" he said firmly.

"I guess he ought to be given a chance…I mean, he did show some of the vaguest glimmerings of potential when he was called upon," she admitted. He arched a cynical eyebrow. "Hiccup…" she admonished him and he shrugged.

"I believe he may not be a total ass…" he admitted dryly. "But he's got a lot to learn…"

"I'm a career agent, Snot is a wannabe career agent, Fish is impressive in data and intel-and Toothless is remarkable. The twins are amazing-crazy and scary but incredible when they choose. And you…what can I say?" He gestured to himself self-deprecatingly.

"Can't resist all this hitman?" he teased her.

"Maybe…but I can't resist the decorated Black Ops Lieutenant, army sniper and frankly amazing man who avenged his family, brought the President and the Vice-President to justice and saved the Archipelago!" Her smile was playful and he felt that thrill in his chest once more…and this time, there was no guilt.

"Does this new unit allow relationships between the agents?" he asked her and she lowered her eyes for a second.

"I suspect Mala already knows we're friends," she reminded him. "And she asked me to ask you. She said-and I quote 'Hiccup Haddock is too good a man and too valuable an asset to waste. Some good should come from the tragedy. And I think he would want to make sure no one else has to suffer the way he has.' End quote." He stared at her.

"And you didn't use that as your opening gambit?" he asked her sarcastically. She shrugged.

"I had hoped you would consider it because I asked you," she said quietly. He leaned forward, beckoning her with his index finger and as she leaned closer, he gently pressed a kiss to her lips. She gasped.

"And you had me when you said you would be joining, Astrid," he admitted gently. "And you know that it may not be completely plain sailing…because I have lost my wife and son, so I may be a little…out of practice. But if you would be willing to give me a chance…I would love to try…"

"What-the unit or a relationship?" she asked him bluntly and he started laughing.

"I was hoping to maybe try a couple of dates first…" he chuckled. "I mean, I appreciate the vote of confidence and admire your optimism but I would like to be asked…" She blushed and read the unfamiliar humour and hope in his sparkling emerald eyes.

"Shut up and kiss me," she growled and pulled him into an urgent kiss, her hands sinking into his soft auburn hair as he tenderly grasped her face to deepen the kiss. And then they both started at the sound of a cork popping. Looking up warily, they saw Gobber holding a Magnum of champagne in his real hand, with Toothless, Fishlegs and the twins all standing beside him, all grinning broadly.

"About time, laddie," the barman commented with a satisfied grin. "I thought ye would never make yer move…and yer friends would be disappointed again." Looking up at his friends, Hiccup smiled, feeling the warmth of belonging, the aching void from the deaths of his Mom and Dad, wife and son easing with the genuine happiness in the faces of his friends at the sight of him making his first steps to moving on.

"We'll talk about this later, Gobber," he said gruffly. "Meantime, pour the fizz for us all while I have something much more important to do…" And then he wrapped his arm around Astrid and pulled her back into the kiss.

**One Month Later…**

The blank concrete face of the HQ of the newly formed Archipelago Intelligence Agency was warmed by the unseasonal sun as the Head of AIA walked into the briefing room. The heavily tinted bulletproof glass still displayed the sunny vista of Berk, the light glittering off the calm, deep blue sea in the harbour as she approached the oval briefing table.

Mala was in her trademark black, the long coat of her tailored pant suit almost reaching her knees and heels clicking as she crossed the wooden floor to take her seat at the head. The others in the specialist unit were all there, though the Thorstons were fighting over a chicken which was improbably seated on the table, trying to lay an egg. Fishlegs had his computer open and was demonstrating something to Toothless. The former handler was all in black, his black jeans, T-shirt and leather jacket familiar to the woman, who had liaised with him extensively in setting up the unit. The man looked up, his green eyes twinkling behind his thick-rimmed glasses, his jet hair tousled. Snotlout Jorgensen was taking a selfie, demonstrating his muscles-presumably for some poor unfortunate female. And as Mala watched, he got slapped upside his head by Astrid Hofferson.

The blonde agent rolled her eyes and sat back on her seat, beside the last member of the group. Still looking tense but affecting a casual expression, Hiccup Haddock glanced at her. Astrid was in a grey pant suit, her expression stern and blonde hair braided over her left shoulder while Hiccup was much more casual in a leaf green shirt, bronze waistcoat and brown denim pants with his leather jacket slung over the back of his chair. He smiled and touched her hand-and she instantly calmed as Mala took her seat.

"Welcome," she announced in her calm voice. "I am gratified that you all accepted my invitation-though I am not sure I asked for the poultry, Theodore." Tuffnut huffed.

"Only my Mom calls me that," he complained.

"Busted!" Ruffnut scoffed.

"That wasn't an invitation to gloat, Raquel," Mala admonished her as she gave a huge groan and buried her face in her arms. "Right, now we are all here, I have an announcement to make. I have decided to appoint a team leader for Strike Unit…" Hiccup put his hand up.

"Can I just say that is a really dumb not to mention inaccurate name?" he said as the Director raised an eyebrow. "I mean, we're not going to strike anything, are we?" The Director shook her head.

"So what do you suggest?" she asked.

"Hey-why are you asking him?" Snotlout asked irritably. "It's not like he's even an agent…"

"But he is," Astrid said smugly. "He signed his contract of employment, the Official Secrets Act and the other declarations as well three weeks ago."

"But it's not like he's the boss…" Snotlout protested, casting Hiccup a smirk. He clearly thought he would be considered for the role.

"Actually…he is," Mala announced. "In view of his performance and skills, I have placed him in field control of the unit, with Astrid Hofferson as his second-in-command…"

"What?" There were unsympathetic laughs from the twins at his outraged shout and Mala rubbed the bridge of her nose in irritation.

"Enough! You were saying, Agent Haddock?" she said sternly. He smiled.

"Thanks, Director," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously. "I was saying 'Strike' Unit is inaccurate and really doesn't refer to what we do. So maybe we should be what we are…Defenders of Berk." Astrid's eyes widened and she smiled.

"Good one, Babe," she murmured.

"Thanks," he replied as she sat back, his hand ghosting hers. Mala nodded.

"Defenders of Berk it is," she said. "Right, first item of business…"

As she began to talk, the former hitman sat back amid his friends and beside his new girlfriend, a warm glow filling his chest and listening to the duties and priorities for his new job as a Special Agent and Defender of Berk.

**The End**

**A/N: Hope you enjoyed the story. Thanks for all your support-harrypanther**


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